The Last Ravenclaw
by SleepySpirals
Summary: "Fred this isn't fair. You weren't supposed to die. You promised me…We were going to get a place in Faerytale… Have kids…Build a life together…" Immersing herself in Quidditch and studies, Celine Van Allen returns to Hogwarts after the War for her 8th Year. However, the peace she sought starts to unravel when Professor Slughorn asks about a certain key with sapphire stones.
1. Of Stealing Flowers for Tombstones

**Chapter One: Of Stealing Flowers for Tombstones**

"So we're going back tomorrow. I still don't see the point but that new Minister for Education, Mathilda what's-her-face. She's insisted on everyone involved in the War to _receive proper education_. You would think that being war heroes and killing Voldemort would merit for an early graduation. Anyway… I don't know how I feel about the coming year. I mean, _Head Girl_? I always thought that Hermione would get the badge, you know? I don't know what McGonagall was thinking." Celine Van Allen paused, the trace of her laughter dying on her lips. "It's going to be weird without you there." Her fingertips toyed with the blades of grass.

"I mean, either way you weren't going to be there…at Hogwarts…But we could've met at Hogsmeade. Especially since… Since you and George were planning to open another store there…" The sobs came unexpectedly and Celine allowed the grief to burst forth, grief that came from the deepest parts of her core. " _Oh Fred_ …"

Her fingers helplessly traced his name on the tombstone, searching for some sort of sign that he was there. That he was listening and this was all some elaborate plan. Because who else would be able to pull off an 'I faked my own death' scheme if not the Trouble Twins?  
Maybe he would apparate behind the tombstone?  
Or appear at supper later, walking nonchalantly into the dining room as if nothing had happened. Like that bloke from that Muggle book that Hermione had lent her, Sherlock Holmes the man that survived his own suicide.

"Fred this isn't _fair_. You weren't supposed to die. You promised me…We were going to get a place in Faerytale… Have kids…Build a life together…" She was gripping the smooth edges of the headstone, inhaling another balmy summer night. "How could you propose to me and then _die_?" The last syllable came out as a harsh rasp as Celine's small frame convulsed under the force of her sobs.

Her fingers curled around the long stems of roses she had brought to his grave, her tears showering the exquisite red petals. A pair of arms wrapped around her middle, pulling her backwards onto her haunches.  
Hands that was so similar…  
Scent that was so similar…

"Ssshhh… Celine… It's okay. It's going to be okay."

 _Voice_ that was so similar…

"How can it George?" Her tone was harsher than she intended. "How can it ever be okay?"

"Because it just has to." George said. "You weren't the only one that lost a part of yourself that night."  
His words hit her in the most unpleasant way, anger slowly seeping into her veins.  
 _Well this isn't about you, George!_  
Celine slumped against George, shaking her head shamefacedly at her selfish thoughts, the fight leaving her body. He slowly began to pull her up, his arms steadying her swaying body.  
"Here." He produced a handkerchief which Celine took wordlessly. "We better head back. Mum will wonder where we've gotten to."

George knew they had to hurry but some part of him refused to apparate to the fringes of the Burrow's backyard, choosing instead to lead Celine down the hill and past the Gothic cemetery gates taking the long and dusty path back home. They remained silent as their footsteps echoed off the dimly lit pavements. George wasn't about to admit it to her, but he found a strange type of solace within Celine. Almost like he had a part of Fred back with him every time he gazed into her striking lavender colored pupils.

"I never knew." His voice cracked. Celine glanced at him, her face almost expressionless.  
"I never knew that he proposed." George continued. Celine nodded, her face not betraying the turmoil of emotions that simmered beneath the surface of her skin. George seemed to fumble now, "I mean… I always figured… He was going to… He spoke of it often-…"

"Did he?"

"Oh yeah." George nodded, clearing his throat as he remembered the look on Fred's face when he had first announced his plans to marry Celine while they had been plotting against Umbridge.

 _"_ _I'm going to marry her." Fred declared proudly, producing with a flourish the list of ingredients they would need to make their everlasting fireworks. They were discussing their rebellion against the horrid toad, Umbridge.  
"You're what?" George asked incredulously. He couldn't believe his ears.  
"Celine." Fred clarified, taking a seat at the table where George and Lee Jordan were discussing their strategies to cause as much chaos as they possibly can during the fifth years' OWLs. "I'm going to marry her."  
"Mate, I know she means the world to you but do you think you've thought this through?" Lee Jordon asked dubiously. "Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes has barely started-…"  
"But business is already pouring in." Fred interjected. "We've got Zonko's asking for partnership rights. And it wouldn't be now. It'll be after… You know… After all this mess with You –Know-Who is over."  
"That could take years." George said, rubbing the back of his knuckles. Why did he suddenly feel abandoned? He and Fred always did everything together. And he knew they couldn't possibly marry the same girl but George always envisioned when they day came the two would take that serious step together._

"He's been planning it since we got our startup money from Harry. I guess he sort of knew that we were going to have a pretty lucrative business." George said and then glanced at Celine. "He was waiting for the war to be over. He didn't want to rush into things."

Harsh laughter came from Celine. "Yeah and look where that got him." She said bitterly. "Bill had the right idea. Get married before someone dies."

"He didn't do it on purpose, Celine." George tried to keep his voice even but was finding it hard to. Celine gave him a look which caused George to grab her upper arm rather uncharacteristically. "He was _my_ twin. If anyone should have the right to wallow in grief and in pain, it's me. Don't be such a self-centered prat."  
She yanked her arm out of his grip. "Stop using that against me!" Celine snarled, tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks. "Everyone knows about you and your special bond you had with Fred but you have to understand that I was _just as important_."

"I never said that you weren't!"

"Well that's what it always seems like." Celine muttered. The Burrow was in sight, yellow lights were shining out of the off-centered windows and a lone owl, _was it Pigwidgeon?_  
No. This owl was far too big to be the diminutive owl that had been a gift to Ron after making prefect. Celine vaguely remembered the day when the brown barn owl from Hogwarts arrived during their sixth year, carrying not just the usual envelope containing their list of school books and other miscellaneous items that would need for their first year as NEWTs student, but also a shiny Gryffindor badge with a large 'P' stamped on the middle.

 _"_ _Dumbledore must've thought it would be safer for students if he increased the number of prefects." Harry took the badge from Celine's hand.  
"You're not…upset are you?" Celine asked, remembering his reaction when Ron had first gotten the badge instead of him. Harry shrugged. "My Dad was never a prefect anyway."_

Mrs. Weasley took one look at Celine's disheveled hair and dirtied knees as she entered the kitchen and immediately took the raven-haired girl in her arms. Celine didn't know whether it was anxiety or depression or fatigue but Mrs. Weasley's matronly demeanor caused her to break down into sobs all over again.  
"I know dear," Mrs. Weasley stroked Celine's long hair reassuringly. "I know."

* * *

Celine sat closest to the window of the black Sedan (magically enlarged of course) courtesy of Kingsley Shacklebolt, the newly appointed Minister of Magic. Harry and Ron had been quite unhappy that despite having saved the world from Voldemort, they were still required to produce NEWTs certification in order to qualify for the Auror application. Ron was still arguing about the lunacy of it all when Mrs. Weasley turned around and said if he did not quit his griping she was going to use the Silencing Charm on him. He sat in fumed silence for the rest of the trip.

"I don't know. It might not be so bad, Ron. After all, we've never had the chance to experience a normal year. Maybe we ought to enjoy the quiet life before throwing ourselves back into it." Harry wrapped an arm around Ginny's shoulders causing Ron to roll his eyes but he grunted begrudgingly.

"I didn't think you'd want a quiet life, Harry." Mr. Weasley chimed from beside the driver. "I think you might find it rather dull."

"You know me, Mr. Weasley. I like to find peace when I can." Harry said, earning an earnest chuckle from the older wizard.

Mrs. Weasley chuckled a little at but her eyes were drawn to Celine whom hadn't spoken a word since they entered the car. She loved Celine dearly and thought of her as a surrogate child especially since her mother had died when she was twelve. Celine's father on the other hand, was constantly abroad as he worked as an ambassador for the Ministry of Magic working closely with the Muggle Prime Minister.

Ever since the death of his wife, the prestigious Marc Van Allen had been unwilling to give up their estate that his wife had so lovingly helped make into a home and had fallen into deep depression. At the urge of concerned relatives, Marc realized that the only piece of Helena he would ever have left is Celine. He quickly accepted the position as ambassador and bought a charming townhouse in the middle of London and relocated her studies to Hogwarts so that he could have her closer to him.

Unfortunately, his business trips which also included being present at the royal court left little time for him to spend with his daughter. He needn't have worried, Celine had befriended the Golden Trio when they had crossed-paths whilst taking care of Hagrid when Buckbeak was sentenced by the Wizengamot.

Mrs. Weasley watched Celine's fingers gently tracing spirals in the condensation on the window. She wasn't surprised when she found the seventeen year old sitting at the breakfast table at 6am. The knees on her jeans were stained with wet patches and she was nursing a mug of tea in her hands.

"I had to go see him. Before we left. I took some sunflowers from the garden. I hope you don't mind." Celine murmured over the rim of her mug.  
Wordlessly Mrs. Weasley had embraced her, understanding Celine's pain only too well.


	2. Of Cats and Snakes

**Chapter 2: Of Cats and Snakes**

"Meow."

"Celine, we need to get to the prefect's carriage."

"Meeeeoowww…."

"I know that! He just won't let me leave him!" Celine said exasperatedly, trying to remove the little Mainecoon from her lap.

The kitten hastily named, 'Rascal', had been a gift from George. The lone twin had waited at King's Cross for the Weasleys to arrive with Harry and Celine so that he could present the kitten to her as well as say farewell.

Celine felt her spirits lift the moment she laid eyes on the beautiful kitten that has a dark mahogany colored undercoat, black markings and huge forest green eyes. She could've kissed George on the cheek if he didn't so achingly reminded her of Fred.

"Celine!" Hermione Granger prompted impatiently from the door of their compartment.

"Here. Let us have him. You lot better get going." Ginny carefully unhooked Rascal's claws from Celine's soft grey sweater. With a grudging sigh, Celine slid out of her seat following the swish of Hermione's wavy hair. Ron was talking rapidly to Hermione he had not been as enthused when she had announced just after the War that she wasn't interested in becoming an Auror. He was apparently still trying to change her mind.

"How's your father, Celine?" Hermione asked ignoring Ron's comment about Aurors being ' _the best fit for us four_ '.  
"I don't know. He writes often enough but he's not the most descriptive of writers." Celine replied. "Your family doing alright?"  
"They were rather surprised to find themselves in Perth." Hermione pushed her hair back with a flick of her wrist. The lock of hair was persistent and she kept repeating the motion every so often. Her hair was no longer the same frizzy mess that Celine had known and loved since they were thirteen. In fact, it seemed as if she had gotten them professionally done since she last saw her. "But I explained to them it was to protect them. I mean, I could hardly be of much help if I was going to be worrying about my parents every day."

"Now you know what it was like." Ron mumbled darkly. Celine felt her heart tightening.

"You know, I'm really nervous about this Head Girl thing. Professor McGonagall really caught me off guard with the letter…" Celine prattled on, eager to change the subject. Not that the topic she had chosen was much of an improvement. Already she could feel the butterflies in her stomach race a little faster. "-I wonder who the Head Boy is? Professor McGonagall hinted to some changes being made to Hogwarts's student government-…"

They came to the entrance of the prefects' carriage located near the front of the train, right after the kitchens. The door which had a painted Hogwarts badge slid open silently revealing the handful of prefects that had already arrived. Celine recognized most of the faces who greeted the trio with gusto and warmth. Ernie McMillan was pumping Ron's hand quite furiously that Ron looked worried he was going to have his entire arm ripped off. The younger Slytherin prefects that Celine vaguely remembered were watching her with narrowed eyes, noticing her new prefect badge that had 'Head Girl' emblazoned beneath the customary design. Noting the slight greenish tinge that had appeared beneath Celine's powdered cheeks Hermione gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Led by Hermione, they took seats on one of the empty rows of benches lined with soft silk pillows of black and white. The crystals from the chandelier above bounced merrily to the momentum of the train threatening to spill hot candle wax onto the unsuspecting occupants below. There was still another five minutes before they were appointed to start and Celine was mentally going over her speech, practicing the breathing techniques her yoga instructor had taught her.

She heard the _swoosh_ of the door followed by footsteps.  
"Is everyone here?" asked a voice that she was only too familiar with.  
Celine's eyes flew open and she found herself staring at Draco Malfoy. His platinum blonde hair was longer, shaggier than the last time she had seen him. She was surprised at how gaunter and paler he had gotten. With a jolt she remembered that Lucius had been one of the first Death Eaters to be thrown into Azkaban after the War and what she was witnessing was probably a direct result of that.

All of a sudden she felt pity wash over her as memories from the War began to play out in her mind. With a hard shove Hermione quickly brought Celine back to reality and she found herself out of her seat.  
"I uhm… Suspect so." Celine's eyes were drawn to script beneath his prefect's badge. "You're Head Boy?"

"Your literacy skills impress me, Van Allen."

Celine felt the heat on her cheeks as gentle titter spread throughout the room.  
"We can begin then since you're the last to arrive."  
She stood up and took her place beside him facing the carriage-filled prefects, trying to disregard the bubbling anxiety that was threatening to spill onto her facial features.

If he had any thoughts regarding Professor McGonagall's decision with her placement as Head Girl his face certainly didn't betray it. Instead he took it into stride and eyed the rest of those in attendance. Draco immediately launched into a speech he had clearly pre-wrote and memorized. His voice had the tone of a bored school teacher who wanted to be rid of their students as soon as possible. He went through the general guidelines of what is expected as a prefect efficiently and failed to hide his irritation when one of the newly appointed fifth year prefects interrupted his stride.

"Are we still allowed to hand out detentions?" The Hufflepuff asked, his eyes were narrowed on Blaise Zabini.

"Professor McGonagall has yet to debrief Van Allen and I so until then, I cannot phantom what she has in store for us this year including the sort of punishment we are allowed to minister. Especially with….what recently occurred…"

The tension in the room became palpable as everyone leaned forward in their chairs expectantly. Celine hadn't been in school the last year having been on the search for horcruxes with her best friends. Though from Ginny's description, Hogwarts had been a very dismal place where the Cruciatus curse was handed as punishment instead of detention.

"-anyway… Van Allen, do you have something you would like to add?"

"I-uh…" All eyes were on her now and she was suddenly hyper aware of how loud her breathing was. Her mind was as blank as a new piece of parchment. The words she had practiced so hard had somehow vanished. "Not much. Just that…the uhm… The prefect meetings would still be held in the Great Hall on Wednesday evenings. Please inform your Head of Houses or Quidditch Captains, if you plan to participate in Quidditch this year," there was a rush of muffled excitement at this. Quidditch had been a distant memory when the Carrows had been in charge of Hogwarts. "-and… Don't forget to patrol the carriages every hour. The rotation rounds are on the bulletin board." She waved in the general direction of the display case that held a piece of thick creamy paper that held their names next to allotted times and carriage number.

"Inspiring." Draco remarked. "Right. Well what are all of you still doing here? Dismissed. Or something of the sort."

He straightened the black silk jacket he wore and headed out the door, Blaise close on his heels. The rest took this as a signal to leave, most were eager to go back to their friends and discuss the glittering new information: Draco Malfoy was Head Boy to Celine's Head Girl.

* * *

"Snarky git. I swear, McGonagall has officially gone off her rocker. _Malfoy_? A flobberworm could do a much better job at Head Boy than him." Ron went off as soon as they were out of earshot of the rest of the prefects.

Hermione looked thoughtful. "Hmmm…I don't know. He seemed to be rather in control of things. I expected him to be a lot worse!" She added when she caught Ron shooting a dirty expression at her.

"I still feel like we should've left him in the Room of Requirement." Ron muttered darkly.

"Ronald!"

Celine left the two of them to bicker. Between getting accosted from old classmates that had returned to take their NEWTs along with old members from DA and her mind swirling with the fact that she was going to have to work alongside Draco for the rest of the year, she couldn't find the energy to make her friends stop arguing.  
Rascal greeted with a soft meow and immediately began climbing all over Celine trying to burrow into her lap.

"Neville! It's so good to see you again." Celine greeted, scratching Rascal's ears. Neville grinned back at her. The scars on his face had healed and all that remained as a reminder was the nasty bruise on his arm that he acquired from wielding the Gryffindor sword.

"Good to see you too, Celine. How've you been?" He asked, eyes widening when he realized the absurdity of his question.  
Celine shrugged but her hands tightened around Rascal a little causing the kitten to squirm. She relaxed her grip and side-stepped the obvious. "I've been better."

"Neville's been telling us about how he's applying to become a teacher at Hogwarts once we finish our NEWTs." Ginny added quickly sensing the tension.

"That's great Neville! Will you be teaching Herbology?" Hermione questioned. Neville looked relieved to move on from his _faux pas_ and immediately launched into a tirade of how he would definitely love to teach Herbology but Professor Sprout is still at the prime of her time and he felt it would be rude if he just swooped in and demanded for her job.

"Personally I think a job as her assistant would be just as good. I'd be able to work closely with the plants. Which is frankly, all I care about." Neville smiled. "She said she has new seeds for a hybrid between a venomous tentacula and a poisonous orchid. I can't wait to see them."

Ron frowned. "That doesn't sound safe."

"They actually make good watch plants. They can recognize your scent and attack intruders."

"But how do they distinguish between friend or foe?" Harry asked.

"Oh…errr…Well… That's why they're still in the experimental stage. Herbologists are still studying them."

Celine settled back against her seat absent-mindedly stroking Rascal letting their conversation float over her. Her eyes glazed over as her thoughts went back to the one thing she didn't want to linger on: memories of Fred.


	3. Of Letters and Portraits

**Chapter 3: Of Letters and Portraits**

Everyone wanted to help.

Everyone wanted to be a part of history. To be able to stand tall and say, "I helped in restoring Hogwarts after the war."

Volunteers came in all forms from the hairy band member of the Weird Sisters to the quiet carpenter who owned a handsome furniture shop in Hogsmeade. Rich Hogwarts alums donated large sums of money and lavish furniture to help redecorate the damaged interiors while the Ministry alongside the team of professors led and managed the planning and rebuilding.

Celine's chest tightened as her gaze fell on the mural that had been erected in memory of all those who had fallen.

It stands at the entrance of the Hogwart's gates. As one neared the mural the colors faded away to reveal the smooth black granite wall it had been painted on. This wall contained the names and birth date of those who had their faces painted.

It really wasn't hard for her to spot the fiery red hair amongst those of the past. She kept her eyes trained on the familiar face despite the painful prick signaling an onslaught of tears, the first of the drops landing on her cheek as the image faded to reveal the dark wet wall behind it. Thunder cracked through the air.

Quite a homecoming.

* * *

Professor McGonagall wore a beautiful high neckline dress the color of charcoal. The ends of her sleeves were made of chiffon the same color and fluttered elegantly every time she moved. Her dark chestnut hair now streaked with gray was in her usual severe bun and the lines of her face had deepened since the last time Celine had laid eyes on her. Despite her years Professor McGonagall stood tall, looking as regal as a Queen waiting to greet her royal subjects when the newly appointed Deputy Headmaster Professor Flitwick brought in the group of wide eyed first years.

Celine smiled a little as she heard a little girl that had two long auburn plaits down her back gasp at the floating candles that helped light the Great Hall.

She remembered her own amazement when she had first step foot within the castle. Sure Beauxbatons had a beautiful chateau surrounded by gorgeous gardens with a generous view of the mountains (as almost all wizarding schools were out in the middle of nowhere) but she had yearned for the estate that she had grown up in. Helena had outdone herself with the family manor. Built sometime during the 13th century extensions had been made with each passing generation where each one was like a precious treasure, eager to outdo the previous.  
From the modern stone and handsome cherry wood carriage house to the full-sized cottage guesthouse complete with a private garden filled with exotic flowers.

Celine loved the house most of all. A gorgeous castle with winding turrets and gargoyles that looked like they were about to fly into battle with wings spanning large enough to provide shelter for three full grown adults if they ever found themselves caught outside in the rain. The manor was also staffed with several servants including a cook, a housekeeper, a scullery maid, a coachman and a stable boy. Helena would tend to the garden herself finding solace amongst the lovely flowers.

Celine never expressed her disdainful opinions regarding the sale of the estate.

But that was why Hogwarts had enchanted her so. The castle reminded Celine of the home she had to leave behind in exchange for the modest townhouse facing Hyde Park. The ferocity of Nature that surrounded them reminded her of the rugged and wild part of France where her family had laid claim on the land for many generations. Celine vowed to do her mother's memory justice one day and buy back what should have been part of her inheritance.

She was abruptly brought out of her reminiscing by the thunderous clapping that rivaled the storm outside. The Sorting Ceremony had begun. Celine watched in amusement as Professor Flitwick brought an extra stool to stand on to be able to place the Sorting Hat onto the new students. He read from a long piece of parchment that rolled to the floor the glint of his silver glasses was caused by the flames from nearby candles.

"Quite a number of students this year." Hermione observed as one by one the apprehensive first years were sorted into their houses. Celine clapped along appropriately when a fair-haired boy wearing robes that were two sizes too big for him was sorted into Gryffindor. "You think it has something to do with the new Minister of Education?" Celine asked.

"I think it's safe to say that we'd be stupid to think otherwise. Well," Hermione smiled. "It's nice to see that more and more people are becoming aware of the importance of education."

Celine tried not to giggle noticing the looks that Harry and Ron were exchanging with one another. It was nice to see that some things will never change.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The Sorting Hat cried and the last student was sorted much to the relief of the older students. Professor McGonagall stood up and smiled if not a little sadly as she gestured, "As dear Albus had once said, 'There will be a time for speech making. This is not the time.'"

The foursome smiled fondly at the memory of their beloved albeit slightly eccentric ex-Headmaster.

"Do you remember what he wore the first night we arrived here?" Ron asked, nodding her head in thanks as Hermione poured chilled pumpkin juice into her goblet. Harry screwed up his face trying to remember while Ron mumbled incoherently through a mouth full of mashed potatoes.

"Purple robes. With bright yellow stars the color of lemon sherbets." Hermione grinned, tucking into her roast beef.

"Fohneshly..." Ron swallowed hard, his Adam's apple surrounded by delicately protruding veins. "How do you girls remember details like that? Bloody Hell, I can barely remember what I had for dinner last Saturday."

"Well maybe if you paid more attention to your surroundings rather than the whims of your appetite you'd be able to remember things better." Hermione replied.

"I _do_ listen, it's just-…"

Harry and Celine shared equally amused expressions as they tried to remind Ron and Hermione that it had been agreed during their fourth year that they weren't allowed to pull Harry or Celine into their 'affectionate' bickering anymore.

"What did you say about peace this year?" Celine teased Harry as Hermione launched into a full description of just how unobservant Ron was.

"Should've known better." Harry chuckled.

Once the food had all disappeared down the student's gullets and the last dessert spoon was placed on the table, Professor McGonagall stood up instantly commanding the silence of the Great Hall.

"To our new first years, welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We are more than delighted to have you join our school and allowing us to teach a new generation of young witches and wizards for another year. To our older students, welcome back." Professor McGonagall smiled warmly, her dark eyes sweeping across the many faces that were staring back at her. "Thanks to the many support from the wizarding community our dear Hogwarts was able to be brought back to her former glory in time for the beginning of term. On that note…" She paused, peering over the top of her spectacles. "-with the events that occurred last year, we have been shown again how important unity, love and friendship is among one another. Starting from tomorrow onwards there shall no longer be a restriction on sitting at other house tables during breakfast, lunch, tea, dinner and supper. Students shall sit and eat with whomever they please, _wherever_ they please. More student-bonding activities shall also be implemented starting with a masquerade ball on Hallow's Eve."

Argus Filch chose this moment to lean forward and murmur something to Professor McGonagall.

"Ah and our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has reminded me to remind the first years as well as quite a number of the older students," Again she peered from above her spectacles. "-that the Forbidden Forest is aptly named because it is forbidden and detention will be handed out to anyone who disobeys this rule. Also a full list of banned items will be pinned onto Mr. Filch's door for anyone who wishes to look. Well, I think we're all quite clear on the new policies. I'm sure all of you are looking forward to your beds and classes in the morning. Prefects, please lead the way for your respective groups of first years. Mr. Malfoy and Miss Van Allen, will you two please remain seated while the Great Hall empties. I would like a word."

Hermione gave Celine a reassuring hug and whispered, "I'll see you back in the dormitory." before hurriedly heading for her last duty before bedtime; patrolling the Hogwarts entrance to make sure there weren't any stragglers out past curfew or wandering first years eager to explore the castle. Celine stood up but made no further movements to cross the bench until the Great Hall was partially cleared before making her way to the teacher's table.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Miss Van Allen and Mr. Malfoy. I trust the journey back went smoothly?" Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow. The dancing flames from nearby torches picked out the fine silver hairs that peppered her eyebrows.  
Draco gave a slight shrug while Celine answered, "Better than expected."

There was a sad smile on the older woman's lips. "Well I hope the rest of the year shall improve. Follow me, please."

The two prefects walked a step behind Professor McGonagall's swishing skirts, allowing her to lead the way.  
"After much deliberation with the school board we have had the old Astronomy tower turned into special living quarters for the both of you. Now this is _not_ a privileged to be abused."

Even without the help of her facial expression Celine could imagine the stern severity by the tone the professor spoke with.

"Both of you are expected to set an example to the other students. The aftermath of the war has not erased any old prejudices but I would like the two of you to change that. There will also be more duties as I mentioned during my speech. I hope you were paying attention to it Mr. Malfoy. Those will fall under both of your responsibilities starting with the masquerade ball. I expect there to be an activity every last Friday night of the month."

As Professor McGonagall spoke they had taken a shortcut behind a portrait of a landscape that featured a lake which led them up a narrow set of steps. Eventually they emerged on the seventh floor behind a tapestry of a unicorn and took another turn at the end of the corridor.

Celine noticed an unfamiliar portrait at the end of the hallway: a white wolf with intelligent yellow eyes.

"This is Thunder. He was the dog the belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw whilst her life at Hogwarts."

"Her familiar?" Celine asked.

Professor McGonagall smiled as Thunder bared his teeth, exposing his canines and pink gums. This also elicited a laugh from Draco. "He seems to have taken offense to that Van Allen."

"That is the general consensus but Thunder resents the association. He prefers the term companion." Professor McGonagall explained and to everyone's chagrin Thunder began to wag his tail in affirmation.

"I'm sorry Thunder I didn't realize you would take offense."

His eyes looked back at her and a moment of understanding passed between them. An ache returned in her heart as she pined for her kitten.

"Stardust is the password." Professor McGonagall said. Thunder nodded the portrait swinging open to reveal another curving flight of stairs with stone walls that were sporadically lit with torches in alabaster sconces. The stairs ended at an oak door that was so heavily polished it reflected the light from the flames.

Celine wasn't expecting the beautiful semi-circular common room behind the mahogany door. Lavish Turkish carpets that sunk beneath their footsteps covered the otherwise chilly freestone floor, overhead a two-tiered chandelier with candles sitting in their holders casting an extra orange glow over the room. Everything else escaped Celine's notice as her searching gaze fell on the pair of portraits that hung above the fireplace.

"Miss Van Allen, Mr. Malfoy, I'd like to formally introduce you to the founders of your respective houses, Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin." Professor McGonagall said.

Celine took in the wild mane that obscured most of Godric's face emphasizing his burliness. Eyes the color of fresh basil stared back at her acknowledging the Gryffindor tie with a slow smile. His features warmed instantly and Celine felt the muscles in her neck relax.

"Well? Are you two mute? Disrespectful youths."

"Salazar, be nice. The two must be travel weary…Van Allen and Malfoy… Both very old names pureblood names."

"Perhaps."

"I beg your pardon Godric but the reason I've instructed the staff to place your portraits together is for the very same reason I have Miss Van Allen and Mr. Malfoy working alongside one another. They are to be separated from the other students that have been segregated since their first year into houses, to prove that they can live together and work out their differences in order to forge a new friendship. There are many prejudices that have transpired between the noble houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin and it is time to put an end to it. It does not help that you two fuel those prejudices with your constant bickering. I expect you two to guide these two as much as you possibly can." Professor McGonagall explained.

"Good evening Mr. Slytherin, Mr. Gryffindor." Draco said.

Salazar waved a hand. "None of that. Salazar and Godric will do. We don't need to constantly be reminded of our age."

"He's been touchy ever since he lost all his hair." Godric said.

Salazar scowled causing the lines around his face to deepen. In the portrait he is painted without a single wisp of hair on his head emphasizing the delicate curve of his crown however he did possess a beard that was admittedly pewter in color and ended just at the collarbone of the dark moss green robes he wore.

Celine tried to recall ever seeing a portrait of Salazar with hair.

"Pleased to meet you Godric and Salazar." Celine said her eyes shifting between the cool gaze of the Slytherin and the penetrating gaze of the Gryffindor.

"Pleasure is ours. I'm glad to be out of that dungeon." Salazar began.  
"It gives us something to do." Godric agreed.

Professor McGonagall smiled. "You two are already agreeing isn't that splendid? Now Mr. Malfoy, you bedroom is located up the right staircase while yours, Miss Van Allen, is up the staircase on the left. I trust that your things would have already been brought up. Tomorrow I expect the patrols to be ongoing as usual. If someone were to be sick or absent for morning rounds, you must instruct them during this Wednesday's meeting that they are to immediately owl either one of you as replacement."

"But what if we're sick?" Draco asked.

"Well then Mr. Malfoy, in the event that the two of you are _simultaneously ill_ , I will perform those rounds myself." Professor McGonagall said with a small smile. Salazar chuckled. "I think this shall be more amusing than I originally imagined."

* * *

Celine nearly didn't see the owl perched on her windowsill when she entered the room at the top of the left staircase that curved upwards.

It was a modestly sized room but it had large floor to ceiling windows with beautiful arches that were decorated with stained glass. Between the panels were intricate carvings of mystical creatures. A four-poster bed was against the right wall with the usual silk maroon coverings. A Gryffindor tapestry hung over her head, the needlework so exquisite, Celine found herself accidentally sitting on a distracted Rascal.

The meow halted her inspection and that was when she noticed the owl looking into the room with its large amber eyes. It was pressed up almost comically against the window: the cause of Rascal's distraction.

Celine quickly allowed the owl in and took the letter tied to its leg. Before she could offer it some treats, it sprang up from the windowsill chestnut wings outstretched as if upset with the long wait that it had to endure.

 **Celine,**

 **I hope this letter finds you well. The years pass by but there's nothing like enjoying the welcome feast and heading back to lie down in the comfortable four poster bed.  
Of course Fred, Lee Jordan and I wouldn't be sleeping until the late hours of the morning. That was when we used to find the time to write down various recipes for new candies for the joke shop.**

 **It all seems like yesterday to be honest.**

 **Anyway, I was just doing the accounting for the shop before closing up and heading home. There was an extra bit of parchment leftover and I just had this undeniable urge to talk to you.**

 **How was the train ride back? Did the kitten give you trouble? I hope not. What did you name him by the way?  
Oh Merlin, I don't mean to come off as interrogative. It's been a long day. I forget sometimes how taxing customers can be. **

**Sleep well.**

 **Eagerly waiting your reply,**  
 **George.**

Celine toyed with the letter her eyes occasionally glancing over to where Rascal was licking himself while sprawled on her bed. She wasn't sure what to reply or even if she should. Though the Trouble Twins had looked identical to the last freckle, George possessed an inner romantic that Celine hadn't expected him to have. The fact that he had chosen to write her a letter despite seeing her just hours ago spoke volumes.

 _Or you could be over reacting._ An inner logic tried to dictate. _You both share a loss that only each other can understand._

The parchment slid from her fingers fluttering quietly to the floor.

 _Oh Fred. We miss you._

* * *

The next morning Celine was surprised to find Draco awake and ready before her.

"Hurry up Van Allen, I'd rather get this over with and get to my cup of coffee." Draco said barely glancing up from the book he was reading.

"I always figured you to be a tea drinking sort." The comment left Celine's lips before she had a chance to process it. Her tone definitely caught Draco off guard. She could see his silver eyes peering from the top of his book.

"I don't…Not that I think about you at all-…"

 _Oh Merlin's beard Celine what are you prattling on about?_

"Look can you please get up then?" Celine finally managed before leading the way to the exit hoping that by the time that Draco caught up to her, her cheeks wouldn't be so hot.

His footsteps alerted her of his presence as she waited by the alcove near the staircase. If Draco was surprised by her waiting he didn't mention it rather, just made a gesture for her to follow along. Celine fell in step beside him their footsteps echoing off the stone walls the emptiness of castle suddenly amplified more than ever.

They finished the rest of their rounds in silence and mutually decided to head to the Great Hall together. The atmosphere within was different.

Laughter rang more often amidst the chatter of students swapping summer stories. Celine could smell the scent of pancakes and Belgian waffles interlaced with the calming undertones of ground coffee beans. A hint of a smile lingered on her face, glancing at Draco.

To her surprise she already found him looking at her.

"See you." He said curtly and walked in the typical direction of where the Slytherin table used to be. There were more clusters certainly but that didn't mean that the students weren't enjoying this new found freedom that Professor McGonagall had offered.

Celine found her friends at the end of the old Gryffindor table.

"What's wrong?" She inquired settling between Harry and Hermione.

"We're trying to get Hermione to try out for the team." Harry grinned passing the tea that Celine had gestured for.

"I am not trying out for the Quidditch team, will you both please stop?" Hermione lamented. "Anyway, where were you? I went upstairs and everything is different. Parvati is withdrawn because…Well…You know…"

"I didn't expect her to be back honestly. Haven't the Patels pulled out their children before?" Celine took a sip of her tea enjoying the French vanilla taste in her black tea. "You know Malfoy doesn't like tea?"

Harry and Ron shared a look.  
"Uh. No? Celine, Hermione, what happened last night?" Harry asked.

"That was what I was trying to get into. Not everyone is back so I guess they had to move people around to make different accommodations and Ginny was in your bed."

Celine raised an eyebrow, placing a stack of buttered pancakes onto her plate. "I was wondering who would have taken over my spot but hey, at least it's Ginny. Where is she anyway?"

"Over with her friends." Harry answered. "She wanted to get back in touch with them. I mean we spent the whole summer together. I can't complain."

"So where were you?" Hermione continued.

Celine explained her new living situation with Draco and Professor McGonagall's aspiration for the both of them.

"That's lunacy." Ron said finally.

Hermione shot him a look. "Personally I think it's a great idea."

"Better you than me." Harry shrugged. Celine chewed on her mouthful of pancakes thoughtfully taking her time to reply. "He hasn't been…anything at all. Quiet and reserved." Her mind went over the comment she had accidentally let slip this morning and feeling the heat rush to her cheeks once more. "Maybe we should give him the benefit of the doubt."

"He did save my life." Harry agreed quietly.

"And we saved _his_." Ron reminded. Celine shrugged, "Yeah but I thought we believed that people deserve second chances."

"Snape." Harry added.

Ron made a sound at the back of his throat while rolling his eyes expressively. "Well I'm not sitting here if you lot are planning on having breakfast with him too. I think I'll be sick if you do."

The other three burst into amicable laughter.  
"I don't think that will happen." Celine assured. The rest of Ron's reply was drowned out by the sound fluttering of wings. The morning post arrived surprising Celine when the same chestnut colored owl dropped a letter in her bowl of dried cereal.

"Gee thanks." She eyed the owl as it took a long drink from her goblet.

 **Celine,**

 **I honestly wasn't expecting a reply but I figured if anyone would've understood sudden cravings to talk to someone it would be you. Healer Leonard said I should be writing down my thoughts but I told him I felt daft writing to essentially myself so he suggested writing to closest friends instead.**

 **Unfortunately you fall under that category.**

 **I like the name Rascal. From your accounts it does suit his personality. It would be interesting to visit Hogwarts again but…**

 **It might be too difficult. Still.**

 **Is his stone still there?**

 **Of course it would be. Professor McGonagall would never allow anyone else to move it. Least of all you.**

 **Verity asked when was the last time I saw Angelina and I have to admit it has been a while. I just don't have the strength to endure her questions. They've recently become to incessant and prodding. But I can't blame her. She's just worried as any concerned friend would be. Of course Verity assumes that we're more than that. As I recall you were on the same page.**

 **Hope your week has gone by well enough. I was wondering if you had received the Hogsmeade weekend schedules yet. It might be nice if I could see you some time.**

 **Just not at the castle.**

 **Anyway it's getting late and I keep the joke shop open on weekends. I gave Verity the weekend off. Maybe I shouldn't have been so hasty. I'll regret it tomorrow surely.**

 **Eagerly waiting your reply,**  
 **George.**

"Who's that from?" Ron asked from across the table. Celine folded the letter, slipping it into her messenger bag as she made a mental note to reply later.  
"Someone." Celine replied before changing the topic to their impending classes.


	4. Of Accidental Voyuerism

**Chapter 4: Of Owls and Voyuerism**

 **October 15th**

 **George,**

 **If anyone moved the stone from the hallway where Fred's murder took place I would personally send them to Hell.**

 **I'm glad you agree with the name. Rascal certainly does and is growing mischievous each day. Last night he caught a poor sparrow as a present for me. Of course I had to congratulate him but as you can imagine the sight was hardly a pleasant one. Hogwarts has changed and I often wonder if I made the right decision to come back.**

 **I had not expected to be in the position of Head Girl let alone alongside Draco Malfoy. Albeit I have to admit, he has changed a lot since the white ferret days you knew him. Then again, I think everyone has changed.**

 **Anyway Hermione and Ron have been arguing though that isn't something new. Ron thinks that we should all apply to be Aurors but Hermione (and I too, for that matter) do not agree. In all honesty I'm interested in potions and what possibilities that potion-making might offer. Oh dear that just leaves the door open for Professor Slughorn, doesn't it?**

 **Speaking of which in the absence of death and destruction, Professor Slughorn has re-established the Slug Club and has been sending invitations for soirees at his office. Some things never change.**

 **I am meeting Hermione at the Gryffindor tower before walking with her to said soiree. There's something different about Slughorn hat I just can't put my finger on though. Rumors are going around that he's been more 'eccentric' with his choice of entertainment lately. Not sure if I should be worried or not.**

 **Also Professor McGonagall has moved me out of the Gryffindor tower and into the old Astronomy tower that's been converted into a new 'Head Boy and Girl Tower', complete with school board approval. Can you believe it?**  
 **We actually have portraits of Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor gracing the wall of the common room but unfortunately yes, I am also sharing it with Malfoy.**

 **I expected him to be worse. So far he hasn't done anything to make me want to wring his neck so I'm taking that as a good sign of development. Especially since Professor McGonagall has given us new duties. This may sound selfish but there are times when I wish things could go back to pre-Voldemort's death.**

 **I wasn't expecting to end this letter in such a somber mood. Hope the shop is doing well. The next Hogsmeade trip is actually next weekend because we are having a ball the following Saturday in celebration of Halloween.**

 **It certainly would be a pleasure to see you.**

 **Sincerely,**  
 **Celine.**

* * *

 **Celine,**

 **Fancy Professor McGonagall allowing that.**  
 **I don't think I've ever seen her with her hair out of that bun. Well I hope you know that if he does go back to his bullying days (which I assume is now over, Dad came over the shop the other day and apparently Lucius Malfoy has been hanging around the Ministry again. He's been given a deal by the Wizengamot –in exchange for his freedom he will give the Ministry information about known Death Eaters. Though I suspect he hasn't been in contact with his wife or Draco since the divorce.) just write me a letter. I'll be there to remind him of his ferret days.**

 **I wish I could still be in Hogwarts to experience this ball you wrote about. It sounds intriguing. But don't be too hard on yourself. Fred and I had dreams that fell outside the regular job undertaken by Hogwarts graduates. That's ultimately what made our decision for us to leave school. That and Harry's winnings that he gave as a startup for the joke shop, if he hasn't told you about it yet I'm telling you now. That's how Fred and I could afford that space in Diagon Alley.**

 **Anyway, if you feel the urge to pick up and leave just know that my door is always open to late runaways. How is your father by the way? Dad told me that he is still stuck at the royal court. Muggles have it simple, don't they? They come up with scientific rational explanations for everything that they can pretend to not see the thing for what it truly is. An extermination of a race.**

 **Genocide.**

 **Healer Leonard says it's a part of the healing process. I don't understand how wallowing in morbidity helps but I can't deny the soothing notion that your eyes would be reading these words and you'll understand exactly what I mean.**

 **I feel like I've taken too much of your time. These new duties that McGonagall has set sounds interesting, do any of them include forcing a friendship between Godric and Salazar by any chance? Merlin knows they've been enemies since their falling out. Gossips from the portraits say that that was the reason old slimy Salazar left.**

 **Care to guess what they had a falling out over?**  
 **I'll leave that for you to ponder while I have to re-check inventory.**

 **Eagerly waiting your reply,**  
 **George.**

* * *

 **October 20th**

 **George!**

 **I can't believe you would end a letter on such a cliffhanger!**

 **Although now that you have put it into perspective it does sound like something Professor McGonagall expects from us. Surprisingly enough Malfoy has been rather pleasant towards me though we still keep our interactions to a minimum. We do try to designate a certain amount of time to 'event planning' which is essentially what Professor McGonagall is expecting. Unity between houses and basically everything that Dumbledore had implored when he was alive.**

 **Godric and Salazar are a handful. Godric seems to have taken it upon himself to advise me from trusting Malfoy too much. Salazar is nicer to talk to (Godric possess far more portraits and often visits them) though he does often go into a trance while whispering in snake-like sounds. I assume he's speaking Parsle tongue. I've heard similar noises from Harry before. Rather eerie thing to hear in the middle of the night, I assure you. But Rascal protects me!**

 **He particularly enjoyed the kitten treats you thoughtfully sent.**

 **Rascal has grown enormous since you've seen him last. His paws and ears seem huge and he sheds everywhere. Thank goodness Hermione has had some experience at getting cat fur out of her uniforms.**

 **The ball is taking shape quite nicely actually. We have had a lot of help from Slughorn and Professor McGonagall.**

 **Speaking of Slughorn, his last 'soiree' had certainly been invitation only! He'd even gone to the lengths of hiring someone to check for invitations at the entrance of his office. And let me tell you something, it was amazing. The food, George! Courses after courses, beginning with shrimp cocktail, pumpkin soup, oysters, smoked salmon, roasted duck…my mouth is watering thinking of it all again. Then there was the 'entertainment' that Hermione had warned me about. Let's just say she didn't warn me enough!**

 **Apparently she's been to a handful since the first night of school. I've only just been inducted into his precious club because of the Head Girl position and…well actually it is rather curious…he asked about Father and the silver key with the sapphire stones. You know, the one he presented for my sixteenth birthday. I'd been wondering what it was and I noticed the other day the same symbol on the key on the Bloody Baron. Oh Morgana, I've side-tracked again, haven't I?**

 **Slughorn's entertainment had basically been the girls from Hogsmeade brothel 'Hard Wands' doing what they do best - stripping. Hermione finally decided to enlighten me and said that Slughorn makes sure there aren't any minors during his 'adult parties' which makes for the added security. Also that he doesn't ever participate but you know…teenagers and their hormones. Hermione said – swearing she hasn't been there but overheard Padma telling Cho that there are rooms further down the hall for 'things'. What those 'things' are I'll leave to your discreet imagination.**

 **I'm not entirely sure about this masquerade ball. As Head Girl I am forced to attend but honestly I'm not that excited at the prospect of dancing. My last dance had been with Fred.**  
 **Hermione says it will be different. That the atmosphere will be different. That I shouldn't let the past interfere with my favorite holiday.**

 **Everything is so different yet the same I can't explain it. I spoke to Hermione on multiple occasions about it and she just stares back at me with this sadness in her eyes. I guess I'm allowed to be candid with you since I honestly cannot speak to Harry or Ron about this, I feel as if Hermione is keeping something from me.**

 **You will think me crazy but call it a best friend's intuition.**

 **I'm glad you're seeing Healer Leonard. He is a nice man, a healer with an actual knack for healing without interest in Galleons. Of course he does earn a fair amount judging from the hospital bill Father received.**

 **He doesn't mind. Father knows that the only way I'm able to sleep now is with the help of the Sleeping Draught. Then there's the Forget-Me-Not Elixir that's supposed to fight this melancholy. It helps to an extent. But when the effects wear off the nightmares becomes extra painful. I worry if I don't remember it people will just forget. Does that make any sense?**

 **Like Professor Snape's body found in the Shrieking Shack…**

 **We must really stop lingering on the past George, darling. Our letters are meant to heal. Though I suppose we have to admit that a large part of our thoughts are devoted to him.**

 **Anyway the first Quidditch match of the season is Hufflepuff against Ravenclaw. Ginny has been an excellent captain and Harry is relieved that he doesn't have to bear that burden anymore. He confessed the other day that he's happy to be focusing on the snitch instead of coming up with tactical ideas. Ginny has a good head for them though and we've been practicing like crazy. Now if only I could pass Transfiguration as easily as I pass a Quaffle!**

 **If Angelina is bothering you that much, why don't you just tell her? She does have feelings for you that much is clear. Don't give me that bullshit about being just friends, you two haven't been 'just friends' since the Yule ball. Of course she is concerned. Let her in.**

 **What difference is it with writing to me?**

 **Eagerly waiting for the answer to the riddle,**  
 **Celine.**

 **P/s: Enclosed is a recent picture of Rascal.**

* * *

The day of the masquerade ball arrived with the sunlight on Celine's eyelids accompanied with Rascal's mewls for attention.

"I'm up. I'm up." Celine mumbled as the cat pawed and nibbled at her long hair. The blue tips were looking a lot less vibrant than when she had first applied it three months ago. With a slight twinge she realized it has been over three months since Fred's death.

Rascal attempting to groom her scalp immediately broke Celine's reverie. She snuggled her face into his fur tufts of it immediately filling her nostrils. He smelt of warm cookies.

"Have you been down to the kitchens again?" Celine questioned her feline. He cocked his head as if pleading innocence.

"Mmmhmm. You're going to get fat if you keep stuffing your face down there buddy." Celine slowly pushed the covers from her body. "Oh Morgana, what time is it Rascal? It can't be that late?"

Pulling back the heavy, velvet curtains Celine observed the scenic grounds, a carpet of leaves in myriads of reds, oranges and yellows. Hagrid had been more than helpful with the decorations for the masquerade ball while balancing a teaching schedule that didn't give him much time to tend to his gamekeeper duties.

A sudden brown _thing_ thwacked against the window pane caused Celine to jump backwards with a squeal. Rascal ran towards her wrapping his long body around her legs comfortingly.

"It's okay Rascal. It's just an owl." Celine gasped clutching her chest while stroking Rascal's back with her free hand. With a deep breath Celine stood up and approached the window to let the owl in.

Its amber eyes certainly looked apologetic which softened Celine instantly. Before she could offer any refreshments it had taken off through the window much to Rascal's disappointment.

"Rascal…You know better." Celine scolded as she unfolded the hastily scrawled letter.

Her eyes scanned the sentences quickly her eyebrows knitting more and more with each passing word.

"God dammit." She muttered slipping her feet into her bedroom slippers.

Celine made sure she tiptoed across the common room before realizing a moment later that neither occupant of the portraits were there.

 _Maybe they have their own appointments. I wonder which painting is big enough to accommodate all the Hogwarts's portraits occupants at once._

Draco's door was stained a handsome olive color that made Celine think of the lush Pyrenees landscape.

"Malfoy." Celine knocked.

A pause.

"Malfoy." She knocked louder this time.

Another pause.

"Malfoy, it's your turn to fill in for an absentee." Celine knocked again her other hand grasping the door knob to see if it would budge.

To her surprise the door gave entrance causing a shaft of cheerful lemon light to brighten the hallway. She peered around the door her eyes still adjusting to the sudden light.

"Malfoy?" Celine stepped into the room shielding her eyes.

"What the fuck?! VAN ALLEN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?!"

"Oh Morgana… I'm so sorry. Ma-Malf-….Draco… I didn't mean to."

The door slammed with a resounding THUD as she ran towards the staircase that would take her far away from the incident she had just witnessed. She certainly hadn't meant to walk in on _that_ …

 _Oh Morgana's sake Celine, what did you just do?_

She crashed into her room startling Rascal. He eyed her curiously from his basket by the fireplace. Celine pressed her back against the door trying to catch her breath feeling as if her heart was trying to break free of her ribcage to do sprints around the lake.

"What if he comes here?" Celine suddenly mumbled to herself. Panic got her to leave the tower showered and dressed within the next fifteen minutes.

* * *

Celine hadn't dared to return to the tower until she absolutely had to. Rather she busied herself in the Great Hall with decorations and helping Hagrid retrieve the live bats that Peeves had set loose in the Entrance Hall. Hermione had questioned her on her rather odd behavior but Celine waved it off as nausea from not eating.

"I'm going to stuff myself silly tonight." Celine promised.

 _Of course you will. Especially after witnessing Malfoy jerking off. Who knew it could be so erotic? Standing at the end of the bed leaning against the footboard with a hand curled around a post. Other hand furiously pumping his dick.  
The expression on his face was utterly delicious._

"Celine are you alright? Your lip is bleeding." Hermione pointed out.

She hadn't even realized that she had bitten down on her lip. "I… I… I'm fine. I didn't…"

"Are you sure? You've been off-…"

"How are things with you and Ron?" Celine asked dabbing at her lip with a tissue.

Hermione fell silent as honey brown eyes stormed over. "It's not well, that's for certain."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Hermione sighed twirling an orange ribbon around her fingers. With a flick of her wrist the long length rose into the air and wound itself around a matte black candlestick.

"Do you think we made the right decision leaving Snape in the Shrieking Shack?" Hermione asked.

Celine's eyebrows raised, "Uhm. I haven't really thought about him to be perfectly honest. I've been rather… preoccupied with other things."

"Right. I'm sorry. That was stupid of me-…"

"'Mione you don't have to tip toe around me anymore." Celine pulled Hermione away from the circular table they were decorating into the Entrance Hall.  
It was practically deserted save for the occasional house-elf that ran past carrying sacks of candies to pour on the tables.

"I've been meaning to tell you this but Father had me visit St. Mungo's while I stayed with him in London that week. He wanted me to see a Healer there and they prescribed me an elixir to take. It's been helping… to an extent. I mean I still get dreams every now and then but I can't help it. Point is, I've been writing to George. And we've been working on helping each other out."

"Is that who all the letters were from?"

Celine shrugged. "Yeah. So if you wanted to tell me things, you know you can always do that. Or if you really wanted to you could send me an owl." Celine smiled causing Hermione to giggle.

"It's not like it's burdening me or anything. I was just…being honest. I haven't thought much about Snape. You obviously have…."

Celine noticed the plum half rings beneath Hermione's typically warm honey brown eyes. Today they looked as if Celine could stare at them for hours but she still won't find the glimmer of the _Hermione_ that she knew.

"For how long?"

"Since the War."

"And you never said anything?"

"I mentioned something to Ron-…"

An impatient scoff escaped Celine's throat. "Not to step on your toes but he isn't exactly the best when it comes to emotional support is he?"

Hermione's fingers were knotting and unknotting as she shrugged. "He has his moments." A small smile curved on her pale lips. "I need to get ready. I'll meet you in the Great Hall at seven?"

"Hermione…"

Hermione stopped ascending the staircase, glancing over her shoulder.

"We need to talk about this." Celine said.  
She answered with a curt nod before hurrying up the staircase.

"Something the matter with Bushy Hair?"

Celine turned around finding Draco standing at the entrance of the Great Hall.  
"I hope you apologized." He added. Celine had to fight back a smirk.

"What makes you think I had anything to do with her being upset?"

"Ah. So she is upset. What is it this time? Weasley doesn't know how to pleasure a woman?"

Celine met his silver eyes, curious to see the playful mien in them.

"I don't think that's any of your business."

"So I am right." Draco shortened the distance between them. Spearmint overwhelmed Celine's sense of smell and his gaze never left hers. Her heart rate started to quicken, her throat feeling as if she hadn't drank water in the last two weeks.

"As I'm sure you'll recall _I_ know what I'm doing." Draco said.

She could feel the heat on her cheeks betting they were at least a shade of peony pink.

"You realize that this means I get to watch you." He continued.

"You wish." She shot back.

Draco raised both eyebrows leaning away so she couldn't smell the mint on his breath anymore. "If you didn't want to deal with the consequences then maybe you shouldn't have entered a private sanctuary without permission."

"I knocked three times before entering." Celine retorted. "Maybe you should lock the door before pleasuring yourself."

"Why?" His smirk made Celine's eyebrows furrow. "The only other person in the tower is you."

 _Is he serious?_

"Draco! There you are." Pansy strolled into the Entrance Hall her sophisticated feathered bob hair shone with the sunrays spilling from the Great Hall. "Oh. Van Allen. I'm surprised you're still here. Won't you need extra time to style that tacky hair of yours? Or is this what you're wearing tonight?" Her azure eyes running over Celine's outfit, a pair of heather grey leggings and an oversized sherbet orange fuzzy sweater that had a cat knitted on the front in black yarn.

"Parkinson do you have the spider webs up?" Celine asked crossing her arms.

"Just one tiny corner left that I need Draco's help with." Pansy flashed Celine a fake smile before shooting Draco a look which translated her increasingly limited patience at being kept waiting.

"I'll _see_ you later."

Celine watched him disappearing behind the double doors with Pansy clutching his arm.


	5. The Key

**Chapter 5: The Key**

 ** _Celine,_**

 ** _I'm glad I've piqued your interest._**

 ** _I'm not surprised about Hermione in all honesty. Dear Ronniekins has started sending letters more often. Would you like to take a guess at what the contents of his letters are?_**  
 ** _Hermione._**  
 ** _You're not the only one who feels as if she's hiding something. Have you asked her flat out? Isn't there some sort of girl code that entitles you to some sort of best friend confidentiality?_**

 ** _Anyway, I hope this letter reaches you in time before the masquerade ball._**  
 ** _Perhaps this is McGonagall's way of starting over after the War._**

 ** _As I recall from your previous letter you mentioned an interest in Potions._**  
 ** _Well as it so happens we do need an extra set of hands around the shop if you are interested. How about interning over Christmas holidays? Not to be presumptuous but since you didn't mention anything about your Father returning from court I take it you will be spending Christmas at The Burrow._**

 ** _You'll have full reign of the potions room including the expense account for ingredients. I was looking into expanding our the sweet collection (since there hasn't been anything new since the Skiving Snackboxes)._**

 ** _I digress I hope the elixirs you've been taking are working well for you. The shop has had my hands rather full and I must admit there are nights when I accidentally forget to drink mine. As you can imagine, those nights are the worst. Mum has been nagging me to hire somebody new. Verity can't make it during weekends. I don't know. It's not really a difficult decision to make. It's just the idea of having someone in place of…_**

 ** _Anyway it would certainly help if you could be the person to help out around the shop._**

 ** _In regards to Salazar and Godric's failed friendship… Apparently they had more than a friendship. Note the subtext. I'm sure a smart girl like you can connect the dots._**

 ** _Maybe that could be a topic to ask Salazar or Godric the next time he annoys you. I'm certain that would shut him up immediately._**

 ** _I hope you enjoy yourself tonight. Write me all the details._**

 ** _Eagerly waiting your reply,_**  
 ** _George_**

* * *

Celine studied herself in the mirror scrutinizing her black sweet heart cut chiffon dress for any stray cat hair on it. The flickering flames from the bathroom's wrought-iron chandelier reflected off the indigo, turquoise, plum, gold and silver sequins which formed peacock feathers down the bodice. The black satin ties of her lace-up corset were emphasized by the pale cream color of her shoulders.

In a moment of heated rage, Celine had hacked off the navy dip dye from the tips of her hair leaving nothing but ebony color behind. It now sat in a low side ponytail held by a diamanté dragonfly beret, the freshly cut tips magicked into curls that barely touched her elbows.

The elegant gold heels on her feet leant an extra four inches to her height causing her to stagger when a sharp rustle broke her concentration. Her fingers poised above her wand breaths coming in uneven rasps. Every noise had her on edge convinced that it was Draco barging into her room-…

 _And do what Celine? Rape you? This isn't some trashy romance novel set in medieval times. There are consequences to actions… You've taken on an army of Death Eaters before. You can handle Draco._

 _But what about you walking in on his private moment, should he not get justice?_

Realizing it was just Rascal sniffing the letter from George still half unfurled on her desk she returned to the task at hand exhaling deeply.

" _Haereo_." Celine tapped her wand to her temple creating a magical adhesive allowing her to wear her open crafted metal mask without the aid of conventional ribbons. The upper left of her face was covered under elaborate wrought details forming an archangel's wing; vines that cut diagonally supported the crystal chains forming the right side of her mask.

Her fingers were working on autopilot, applying the final coat of cherry lipstick on her lips her mind preoccupied with the impending night. Professor McGonagall had given an exact run through this morning: Draco and Celine were expected to sit at the high table with the school board and the faculty. Five minutes before the clock tower chimes midnight Professor McGonagall will call everyone's attention for the mask unveiling.

Celine was in the Entrance Hall by the last chime of the clock marking the designated time she agreed to meet Hermione. She hadn't expected the large turnout proving her task harder than intended.

"Miss Van Allen, there you are. Dinner is beginning momentarily why aren't you seated at the table?" Professor McGonagall found her standing at the top of the staircase, surveying the beautifully dressed student body hoping to spot her friend dressed in scarlet. "Hurry, we're not starting a minute later. You and Mr. Malfoy are also going to be opening the ball."

"I'm sorry…?" But her question was left hanging as she entered the Great Hall.

Sure she'd been working with the rest of the prefects and staff all day on the decorations, but there was nothing like seeing it at its full effect.  
With the sun gone and the floating candles replaced with jack-o-lanterns, their cut-out faces were the only source of light. Couples held hands, leading their partners to the round dining tables scattered throughout the hall. A polished and platform designated for dancing was placed right in front of the high table where the staff normally sat. To the left beside the entrance to the trophy room is another raised platform where elegantly dressed goblins fussed around instruments twice sometimes four times their size. Thick silk wreaths of spider webs hung from the sconces holding flaming torches with blue flames.  
The long head table was draped in tablecloth the color of black ink with citrus trimming. The table itself held an assortment of bowls carved to look like skulls, filled to bursting point with candies from Honeydukes. The surrounding round tables were decorated similarly but with the colors reversed.

She found Professor Flitwick in front of her, the top of his slicked hair barely reaching her mid rift.

"Miss Van Allen you are looking splendid, step this way your table is here. I'm assuming Professor McGonagall told you that you and Mr. Malfoy are opening the ball right after dinner."

That got her attention again. "I…wasn't aware that we had to open the ball."

"Oh." Professor Flitwick paused, stroking his chin. "Well **_you are_** and it's quite easy really. You attended the Yule Ball didn't you? The champions had to open the ball?"

Celine remembered dancing with Fred for the first time. Even though he'd crush her by asking Angelina to the Ball instead, she'd found him staring at her from across the dance floor. She'd gone with another Ravenclaw boy. Jared? Jeremy?  
She couldn't remember it had been a last minute affair. As it is, halfway through he abandoned her to dance with other Beauxbaton girls and she'd found herself sitting by Harry and Ron. Ron hadn't even noticed that his elder brother was asking his best friend to dance, his thoughts were caught up in the revelation that Hermione had attended the ball with Krum. That was really when Celine suspected Ron of his true feelings for Hermione.

"Miss Van Allen?" Professor Flitwick eyed her from behind his spectacles.

"I'll…do my best." Celine offered a smile.

* * *

"Nervous?"

"A little."

Draco smirked, "Don't be." He offered her his hand. Dressed in a handsome brocade frock coat the color of pine trees, it brought out the steel blue flecks in his eyes that Celine hadn't noticed before. His palm which she'd somehow expected to be cold was warm and assured.

"Follow my lead." His breath tickled her ear. In such close proximity Celine realized that his masquerade mask was meant to resemble a Roman soldier's helmet.

It was a slow waltz.

His fingers entwined with hers, she could feel the soft pressure of his other hand on the small of her back. She could also feel the eyes of the entire room.

"You're stiffening up, Celine. Stop it."

"Sorry. I'm not used to this."

"Don't apologize just make sure we get out of this without looking like uncoordinated baboons, will you?"

He spun her suddenly causing her dress to flare around her in a beautiful circle of chiffon. She found herself crushed against his chest, feeling it rising up and down beneath her palms.

By the time Celine felt like she was getting the hang of it, other couples had started to make their way to the dance floor. When Draco dipped her both arms wound tight around her body, she felt oddly safe and protected. Catching a glimpse of Pansy's upside-down dour expression Celine was brought back to reality.

The smile wavered on her lips which Draco noticed.

"Not enjoying this?" He asked.

"How can I when your girlfriend is plotting my murder a few feet away?"

Draco chuckled. "She's not my girlfriend. That's always been Father's arrangement…"

"I'm sorry." Celine said after an uncomfortable beat.

He eyed her. "For what, exactly?"

"Your Father…clearly a touchy subject. I didn't mean to…I know I wouldn't want to talk about-…"

"He meant a lot to you, didn't he?"

Celine opened and closed her mouth several times. She didn't know how to reply him. How could she even begin to explain?

"You don't have to answer that." Draco said quickly. "I didn't mean to pry Father always complained my questions would get me killed one day. It did. In a way."

She raised her eyes to meet his. In that moment she was strangely aware that her life wasn't the only one that was changed because of Voldemort. If anyone, it would have been Draco.  
What would've been like if he hadn't been raised by power-hungry Lucius?  
His mother seemed like a nice woman herself, albeit snobby but she had been born with it.  
Just as Celine had been.  
Celine cringed at the recollections of her youth.  
If it hadn't been for her mother's death, she probably would've been just another pretty Beauxbaton girl thinking that her life revolved around aimless parties and tea at the French court.

The song ended. Partners stepped away from each other, clapping for the band. Before Celine could get another word in Pansy flounced forwards in an elegant jade dress stepping in front of her, "I think I'll be taking the next dance."

Celine stepped aside momentarily annoyed.  
Why though?  
Draco was allowed to dance with whomever he pleased.

 _"_ _That's always been Father's arrangement."_ His words echoed in her mind watching the Draco and Pansy dance their way to the middle of the dance floor.  
She was also going to pretend that Draco hadn't entirely snubbed her feelings.  
Why did she _care_?

Shimmering mist accompanied by the faint sound of metal chains clanking caught Celine's attention.

"Celine, where are you going? The ball just started…" A voice said from behind her.

"Father?" Celine's eyes widened seeing the older gentlemen wearing dark green dress robes with a high collar and ebony cravat. His eyes were unmistakable behind the doctor's mask with its bejeweled hooked nose. "Father, what are you doing here? I thought you were at the palace?"

Hugging his daughter, Marc Van Allen, tried to ignore just how much Celine looked like Helena. Except for her eyes, she had inherited his striking lavender irises.  
"Yes, well I was and then I received your letter about Professor Slughorn—"

"Oh well he was just curious, I don't think he ever intends to purchase it—"

"Guard that key with your life, Celine." Marc said in a low tone. Celine blinked. She didn't think she'd ever heard her Father's voice with that much worry since the days of Voldemort.

"Are you okay? Did something happen? It's Voldemort isn't it?" Celine asked, casting a _Muffliato_ charm. No one was any wiser.

Marc glanced around and took his daughter away from the dance floor. "No. Thankfully it's not. He's as good as dead. It's you I'm worried about. During the renovations at Hogwarts, some artifacts turned up including Rowena Ravenclaw's will. It's been in the hands of the school board ever since."

"Father, that's great news! But I'm confused, what does that have anything to do—"

"Patience _mon cher_ , the key. It was listed among her items that were to be bequeathed to Helena's heirs."

"But Helena never had a next of kin…the Ravenclaws died out." She shook her head.

"That's what I thought so too but Marie's been cleaning the library at chateaux—"

" _d'Amboise_?" Celine asked eyes large.

"I know. I shouldn't have done it." Marc said. "I'm buying it back but the owners were not pleased—"

" _We're_ the original owners! Father our family fought it from the King's hands, I'll fight for it—"

Marc laughed. The spark in her was another one of Helena's traits. "You don't have to fight for anything, they accepted the monetary offer I made. But there were some letters that Marie unearthed and they'd been to…your mother."

"What did they say?" Celine forced herself to ignore the strain she heard in his voice. He was still mourning her.

Marc shook his head. "She was interested in genealogy, her side of the family especially since she never knew much about them. Whoever she was corresponding with signed their initials as BB."

"What did the letters say?"

"That's why I had to come to Hogwarts. They were stolen en route back to the chateaux."

"You _didn't_ read them?" Celine asked.

"I haven't had the time you know your Mother and her fondness for writing in Latin." Marc replied sighing. "All I remember was a family crest."

"Family crest?" Celine gasped. "All this while I thought it was a symbol like the Hallows."

Marc laughed. "No. I'm still trying to track down the family but it's the same as the one on the key, I'm certain. Do you have with you?"

"No, it's upstairs in my room."

"Keep it safe. The missing letters are making me uneasy. There shouldn't be a reason anyone would want them."

"How did you know they were stolen? Couldn't the owl just have lost—"

"I didn't send it with an owl. My assistant was attacked. That's why I needed to get here and make sure you were alright. Before the thief makes a connection between the key and Rowena Ravenclaw's will."

"Hang on, do you mean to tell me…it was _her_ key?" Celine asked.

"Yes, _cheri_ , I thought you would've figured that out."

"But we're not next of kin!" Celine put a hand over her mouth as the pieces began to fit. "Father, you don't think that's what Mama was researching?"

"I think it'll be wrong to think otherwise."

"I've got to find the Bloody Baron, he must know something." Celine said but his firm grip on her wrist made her stay put.

"No. Enough talk about the past. I haven't seen you in nearly three months, how are you?" Marc asked, hands on her shoulders. "I'm so busy with the royal family I barely see my own daughter grow up. Dance with me."

Celine laughed as she watched him start a fox trot, grabbing Professor McGonagall's arm. She'd miss him and after the loneliness that Fred's death presented, it was a relief whenever she could genuinely laugh.

Her head jerked up, catching sight of a broad shouldered red-hair standing in the crowd but reminded herself firmly that _he_ couldn't possibly be there.

Celine had waited.  
She'd sat and wept in the crumbled corridor, praying to whatever God that controlled the Universe to release Fred into the ghost realm. She couldn't lose him.  
He never came back.  
"It is only those who fear death that come back." Nearly Headless Nick had once remarked, finding Celine in a heap on the castle floor.

Shaking her head to clear the creeping memory, she noticed that the red-haired figure was gone. Whoever it was, it wasn't Fred.

"Celine?" Marc called over the fast paced music. He'd already gathered half the staff including Professor Sprout and Professor Slughorn in a line. "Join the fun, won't you?"


	6. The Lost

**Chapter 6: The Lost**

She pulled on the maroon colored knit sweater and a bright floral patterned chiffon circle skirt over the warm woolen tights covering her bare legs.

"I guess Gryffindorks never lose their pride, do they?" Draco commented when she stepped into the common room.

Raising an eyebrow, Celine retied her hair into a high ponytail. "I think you should look in the mirror before commenting on someone's appearance."

An earnest chuckle came from portrait above the fireplace where Salazar was smiling through his beard. "The lovely lady has a point, my dear boy."

Draco scowled returning his attention back to the book in his lap.

"I didn't know you're interested in alchemy."

"For someone who claims to loathe working with me, you have a lot of opinions on my lifestyle."

"I don't _loathe_ you. I just have a different opinion on what the next student activity should be." Celine crossed the common room towards the portrait hole. "You should stop relying on Parkinson for your information. She'll stop at nothing to have you in front of the altar with her."

She wasn't exactly sure why she said that but the portrait swung close before he had a chance to.

* * *

George was already waiting for her at the Hogsmeade station when the Hogwarts train pulled in.

Ron and Harry greeted him before leaving the two of them on their own. Hermione hadn't come down for breakfast and the two guys claimed they hadn't even seen her in the common room the night before. Trying her best not to worry too much about Hermione, Celine hugged George, realizing only too late that his touch would almost certainly be identical to Fred's.

It wasn't.

Where Fred had been cautious, holding her as if she were made of porcelain, George caught her in a tighter embrace crushing the air out of her lungs. He didn't smell like warm chocolate chip cookies or teakwood but rather like fresh pine and rain.

"Have you been waiting long?"

"Hardly." George replied.

She couldn't resist a smile. "Where do you want to go first?"

"We were uh…going to go visit Zonko's first—"

"That's actually what I wanted to show you guys. I'm taking over Zonko's!" George said.

Celine jumped up, surprising even herself as she hugged George again. "Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes is taking over?"

"Yeah. We were…we were discussing it for some time. Then you know—" George was cut off by Celine tugging on his wrist. "We should see the space. Are you all moved in? Then we should go for celebratory drinks. Oh, Hermione should be here. I could've gone to the Gryffindor tower, it's not like I didn't know the password. Speaking of…" Celine stopped walking causing George, Harry and Ron to walk right into her. She burst out laughing causing everyone else to laugh.

It felt such a relief to be out of the castle away from the reminders of Fred. Oddly enough, being around George didn't break her like her nightmares had predicted.  
Different in every way, if one knew what to look for.  
George preferred Firewhiskey in his Butterbeer, wore his watch on his right wrist and hated chocolate chip cookies. He talked less but whenever he did it was with great observation.

They spent the day with George going over inventory in the new store, tearing down Zonko's old blue and red decorations and clearing space in the display window.

"You know I'm beginning to think that he roped us in to do this. Free labor." Ron said whipping his wand a little too vigorously causing the rag he was cleaning the front door with to shoot across the room.

"I heard that ickle Ronniekins and for your work," George appeared on the staircase ahead of some levitating boxers. "…we are going to enjoy a nice lunch at the new restaurant that just opened on High Street."

"Deep Cauldron? I saw a review on the Entrance Hall noticeboard, it's supposed to be real good."

"And are we paying for this 'real good' place? Because it sounds expensive." Ron's face mirrored his doubt.

George laughed. "Yes. I do appreciate what you lot helped me with today and Rascal…seems to be enjoying himself."

Rascal at the moment was enticing himself chasing a wriggling Extendable Ear that George had charmed to dance on its own.

"Well if George is paying." Harry grinned.

* * *

Celine returned at the end of the day happy. Warmth enveloped her body, a fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Maybe she shouldn't have agreed to that dessert drink…a Fernet hot chocolate?  
But it looked so good on the menu and the liqueur hit just the spot after the anxiety-ridden week she had.

The Entrance Hall was empty, the last of the sun rays beaming through the large arched windows. Celine abruptly stopped walking when a shimmering shadow disappeared just out of her left peripheral. Soft metal clanks accompanied the shadow. Her heart rate picked up a little as she followed it, the heels of her boots echoing loudly off the stone walls in the tight space that she vaguely remembered as another path leading to the dungeons.

 _BB. Bloody Baron. It has to be. Didn't Harry mention something about Helena and the Bloody Baron? What was it though? Why would he sign his name 'Bloody'? Did people back then just go by some form of adjective before their name?_

Celine stopped reaching a dead end. She'd never been to this part of the dungeons before. Her head nearly touched the ceiling and a thick smell of dampness hung in the air. The clanking sounds had definitely led her here and the Bloody Baron must've presumably walked through the wall. Celine stared at the stone wall with shadows dancing across the surface created by the flickering flames from the torches. Where the ceiling met the wall, she noticed for the first time a discoloration in the stones. In fact, it looked like something had previously hung on the wall. It looked roughly the size of a large portrait. She turned around hoping to double back and find another corridor when she found herself staring face-to-face with the Baron.

She'd never seen him up close. Darker patches of what could only be blood stained his trousers and the cuffs of his jacket. Under all that grime Celine saw a fancy brocade pattern and thought that it must've been handsome once. Metal chains wrapped around his wrists and legs, swinging even during his stillness.

"Why are you down here?" The Baron spoke first, startling Celine. His voice reminded her of strong winds blowing over rusty pipes.

"I-I…I came t-t-to look for you." Celine fumbled with the neck of her sweater, fingers getting tangled in the material. Her skin prickled under his eyes that were nothing but dark hollows. She couldn't really tell if he was looking at her but she could _feel_ it.  
The rest of the baron's face didn't look any better, emaciated with bits of skin peeling in places. Smeared blood covered the right side of his face. "I think…you might recognize this." The silver chain came free from the folds. She removed the little tangled threads clinging to the key.

She hadn't studied the key since it arrived in an envelope two days after Mother's funeral. The envelope had been addressed in Mother's hand. Someone **_else_** had to know about the connection between the Ravenclaws and the Van Allens. Mother had to obviously trust that person, otherwise how else would the key end up in Celine's possession?

 _But who?_

The silver seemed brighter in the almost-darkness. An engraved owl's head with sapphire eyes made the key's bow.  
" _I thought you would've figured that out._ " Father's words swam in Celine's mind making her wonder how she'd never realize that it wasn't just _any_ symbol carved onto the owl's forehead. _It was a family crest like Father said._ Her eyes flickered to the worn leather sword sheath hanging off the baron's hip. _The same crest?_

"How'd yeh get that?" His voice hadn't raise by any means but he might as well have been shouting. Celine flinched.

"It was…given to me."

"By who, lass? Who gave it to yeh?"

"My mother. I think. I don't know…she died before she could really tell me anything." Celine said. "But it has _your_ family crest on it. Why?"

"I gave it to her, didn't I? Right before she ran off." The Baron said.

"Who?"

"Don't act stupid lass. Yeh know exactly who."

Again with that haunting stare, Celine felt he was looking _through_ her.

"No, I don't. _Please_. My Father…he found letters in our old house that belonged to my Mother. He didn't understand what was written because they were in Latin and he was going to get them translated when the owl was killed and the letters stolen." Celine said. She was determined to settle the question that's been haunting her ever since Mother's death. "I don't think…I don't think she just _died_ …my Mother. I believe…she was murdered."

The statement hung heavy in the air. This time when Celine raised her gaze to look into the Baron's face she found a look of sorrow instead. His lips curved downwards and the peeling skin quivered.

"What was her name? Yer mother?"

Celine's throat tightened. "Helena."

The Baron's mouth opened stretching further than humanly possible, as he emitted an ugly wail. Celine covered her ears. The fine hairs on the back of her neck and arms were on end. In that moment she understood what her own sadness must sound like.

The flaming torches went out.

"Wait! Please!" Celine watched as the Baron disappeared through the wall leaving her in complete darkness. She could feel the cold sweat clinging to her neck.

 _Why don't I feel alone?_

Scrambling for the steps, Celine hissed in pain when her knee connected with the edge of a step. Cursing under her breath and scrabbling for purchase on the walls she thought she saw the shadows above her stir.

"Baron?" She asked immediately regretting the decision. Finding her wand tucked in the waistband of her skirt. " _Lumos_."

Nothing. There was nothing on the steps above her.

* * *

Quidditch practice felt like torture later that evening.

"Well maybe you shouldn't have come to practice drunk." Ginny said. Celine fought the urge to hex her. Harry noticed the way Celine's fingers were poised over her pocket.

"Is there something on your mind?" He asked when Ginny had flown away.

"I'll tell you and everybody later." She muttered sensing Ginny's glare from the opposite end of the field. "When your girlfriend isn't trying to do me in with a Quaffle."

* * *

When Harry finished telling the story of Helena Ravenclaw during dinner, things began to fell into place.

"It can't possibly be the same Helena?" Hermione glanced at Celine. Celine shook her head. "Not possible. But that's something I never got to ask Mother. Because all the women…" She trailed away, fork-full of duck in mid-air.

"Celine?" Ron's uncertain voice broke her reverie.

"All the women…" Celine began, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. Her chest felt heavy for some unexplainable reason. "-in my family have been given the name 'Helena'. On my mother's side. I just realized that…my grandmother in Scotland…she must've been the one to send me the key. Who else would've known?" Her eyes were ablaze with realization. "But how am I supposed to get to her? I can't write to her if the owls are being intercepted."

"What's suspicious about a granddaughter visiting their grandmother?" Ron asked.

"Nothing. When you aren't a Van Allen." Celine said then recounted the surprise visit from Father during the masquerade ball.

"Well can't you just use the Floo Network to get to your grandmother's?" Harry asked.

"More importantly who's trying to harm your family?" Hermione said.

Celine raised her eyebrows looking up from her half-eaten dinner. "You don't think this is really that dangerous, do you?"

"Well, it's awfully suspicious isn't it? And I never took your Father as someone to jump to conclusions. If he came all the way from the royal court to warn you about the key, I certainly think you may be in danger. Obviously I'm not thrilled at the prospect, stop looking at me like that. You wanted an opinion, I just gave you one."

"And I thought I'd be able to have some peace at Hogwarts since Voldemort died." Celine said.

"According to Professor Hartley a lot of his supporters are still on the run." Ron said. "I'm telling you lot, we're better off in the Ministry now trying to catch them than sitting around on our arses here-"

"Ronald!" Hermione said.

Ron, Celine and Harry winced. They knew better whenever Hermione started to call Ron by his full name.

"You were saying, Celine?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing. Harry's suggestion seems perfectly reasonable. Only if I knew if her fireplace was connected to the Floo Network." Celine said.

"I thought all magical homes are supposed to be connected to the Floo Network?" Harry asked.

"I don't know think so." Ron's face screwed up in a weird way whenever he tried to remember things. Celine glanced at Hermione to exchange an eye roll and found her friend preoccupied with moving the food around on her plate.

"Something else come up?" Celine asked when Harry and Ron started to fill the silence with Ginny's Quidditch strategies for the upcoming match. The least she thought about Ginny right now, the better. She was still stung by the comments the red-head had made during practice.

"Do you remember how I got to classes during our third year?" Hermione asked suddenly.  
Celine dabbed a napkin on the skirt she had just spilled some tea on. "Yes, I do. What about it?"

"What if we got one?"

The napkin slackened in her fingers, lowering her voice further she looked Hermione in the eye. "Are you proposing what I think you are?"

"There has to be a way. We could've gone back, there must've been time."

"No there wasn't." Celine snapped. "It was someone's misfired spell. He died…instantaneously."

"O-oh…I didn't mean…" Hermione's cheeks were deepening a peony pink. "I…"

"You were talking about Snape…" Celine's eyes widened. "Weren't you?"

Hermione's fork clattered on her plate as she hooked her book-bag on her shoulder. "I've got to go." She mumbled.

"Wait, Hermione! Dammit…you have rounds tonight!" Celine stood up calling after her. Hermione ignored her. Celine sighed, sitting back down.

"What in Merlin's saggy left nut sack was that about?" Ron asked.

"She's upset with me." Celine said.

"Honestly? Better you than me."

"Thanks Ron." She rolled her eyes.

"Is she going to be okay?" Harry finally asked when Ron resumed eating. Celine glanced back at the doors hoping that she'd see her best friend's familiar curly hair among the students entering the Great Hall. She sighed, taking a sip of her iced tea. "I don't know."


	7. The Emergence

**Chapter 7: The Emergence**

"How about a bake sale? We could get participating shops from Hogsmeade and maybe some from the house-elves. People could send their friends and loved ones something."

"How about dancing elves singing carols? I'm sure everyone would enjoy receiving _that_." Draco said, the sarcasm in his tone evident.

"Okay look," Celine threw her quill and parchment onto the table. Messy scrawls and crossed out items could be seen on the former's surface. "-the Prefects' Meeting is tomorrow and we still don't have an idea for December's student-bonding activity. So unless you want to go up there looking like a daft Hippogriff with dungs for brains, I suggest you be a little more cooperative."

"She's right Draco." Godric piped from his portrait.

Draco looked as if he was trying hard not to roll his eyes. Currently sprawled on the armchair, one leg languidly hanging over the side he placed his fingertips against his chin. Strands of platinum blonde hair fell from his face revealing his pointed profile. Celine felt an uncomfortable pang in her chest causing her to cast her gaze away. The last time she'd seen him in that profile he'd been at the foot of the bed.

"What was the first thing you suggested?" He sat up suddenly.

Celine met his eyes. "I don't know…we've been through a lot."

"The thing with old man Kringle."

"Kring-…? Oh you mean Santa! I don't…" Celine paused. "Was it the Secret Santa idea?"

"Yes." Draco said leaning back against his chair. "That sounded like a relatively good option. Better than most anyway, quite a compliment considering half of the _horrible_ ideas you came up with-…"

A crumpled ball of parchment hit him squarely on the chest. "Shut it." Celine said however there was still hint of a smile on her lips. "So the Secret Santa idea will work?"

Draco shrugged. "It seems the most doable. Given that most of the school will be going back to spend Christmas with their families, it wouldn't be half as interesting if we threw another party."

"'Formal'." Celine air-quoted. "The school board doesn't like us using that term, remember?"

This time Draco did roll his eyes. "Who are they trying to bluff? If there's music, booze and dancing, it's a party. Doesn't McGonagall make everyone write their names down if they're staying over break?"

Celine nodded. "Yeah."

"We have our list then. We can randomly assign students. They can buy their gifts and the prefects can distribute them on Christmas Day during the feast." Draco said.

"Sounds easy—"

Two quick clear _tap-tap_ s from the window interrupted Celine. A brown barn owl perched on the window sill with two familiar black scrolls with violet ribbons. Before she could move, Draco stood up to let the owl in with a lazy wave of his wand.

"One's for you." Draco handed it to her.

It was another one of Slughorn's 'invitation only' soiree. Celine watched as Draco tossed the unopened invitation on the floor joining the other discarded bits of parchment and rejected ideas.

"You're not going to the soiree?"

"Have I mentioned how _keen_ your observatory skills are?" Draco asked.

Celine scowled. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to be civil every now and then. Professor McGonagall _did_ say—"

"As I seem to recall you didn't always follow the rules either."

" _The point is_ we're supposed to set aside old prejudices, you're not exactly a person I'd invite round to tea either, Draco."

She didn't know if it was a trick of the light but Celine could've sworn she saw a hint of a smile begin to appear on his features, whatever it was disappeared before she could confirm it. Draco stood up stretching his arms above his head. "Well I return the sentiments, Celine. Lucky thing I don't like tea."

"I don't understand him sometimes." Celine mumbled under her breath sensing the eyes from the two portraits above the fireplace watching her watch him leave the common room. "I try and it's like…what's the point?"

"You've got to have patience with that one." Salazar said when Draco was out of earshot. "You can tell. He needs his time to trust. We Slytherins pride in taking care of ourselves, you know."

Celine cocked her head. Taking her time walking to the fireplace she asked, "How long did it take you to admit to yourself that you needed Godric?"

The reactions from the two founders were ones she hadn't expected. First Godric's face turned a dark puce shade, golden eyebrows furrowed. Salazar on the other hand somehow appeared paler than usual, wizened eyes wide.

"Who told you?" Salazar finally asked. His voice a hoarse whisper that Celine barely heard over the crackling fire.  
"Salazar. Don't. That's none of her business." Godric said. The stern expression still hadn't left his face. Instead he straightened his posture making him appear taller with just a lift of his chin.

"I-I don't mean…didn't…" Celine sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. It felt like she had accidently eaten a Ton-Tongue Toffee. "I didn't mean it to come out that way—"

"And what way was that?" Godric continued his expression not changing.

"Believe it or not Godric, times have changed since you last walked around England. We're more accepting now. You don't have to lie to yourselves anymore. It's pathetic is what it is." Celine felt an unexpected dam burst from within her, the pain she had stifled for so long.  
What was Professor McGonagall thinking?  
Celine needed Hermione by her side, who was she supposed to confide in?  
Draco? These two?  
"You know I would count myself lucky if I could live in a portrait beside Fred for the rest of eternity." Celine continued. Tears sprung in her eyes but she was too frustrated to wipe them away. "I'd _kill_ for that chance."

 _The Time-Turner._ Hermione was going to try locating it.  
Would Professor McGonagall still have her old one?  
Celine chewed on her bottom lip barely acknowledging the tears inching down her face.

"Celine…" Salazar began but she was already walking up the staircase to her room. She didn't even notice the shadows stirring from the other staircase.

* * *

When Celine found Hermione in the Gryffindor girls' dormitory she allowed herself to breathe. She didn't think her friend would be there but Hermione had been reading in bed, an anxious expression plastered over her features.

"About what I said the other day at dinner—"Celine said when she showed up unannounced. Stopping, she took a glance around to make sure there wasn't anyone else in the room. "Didn't you say you're rooming with Ginny? Where is she?"

"Probably going over Quidditch tactics with Peakes. And you really don't have to worry, I should've realized you would think about…Fred." Hermione hesitated before saying his name.

Celine shrugged, sitting at the foot of Hermione's bed. "Well do you want to talk about it?"

"I…" Hermione suddenly fell silent, a troubled look that Celine didn't recognize passed over Hermione's face. "I don't know where to begin honestly."

"You're thinking about Snape…is there…a reason?" Celine asked. Hermione started to twiddle with her fingers, thumbs pressed against the other. Her book laid abandoned opened to the page she had been reading.

"I've missed him."

Hermione's voice was a whisper and Celine waited a couple of seconds to make sure she'd heard right.

"You think there would be time…Harry said he was in the Shrieking Shack." Celine said. Hermione shrugged but her eyes were glassy.

"I don't know but we have to try…"

"And Professor McGonagall still has the Time-Turner?"

This time Hermione shook her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "No. I've asked. She returned it to the Ministry. I think she knows, she gave me a warning that you're not supposed to meddle with time." When she laughed, it sounded hallow to Celine's ears. "Not when it's to save someone."

"We did it in our third year!"

"And she's not Professor Dumbledore." Hermione said in a low voice a strained smile on her lips. "Besides I honestly don't know how we're going to go through with it without a Time-Turner. Even if we do have one it's going to be extremely dangerous—"

"When have we ever allowed that to stop us?" Celine interjected.

"-we could _die_ Celine. Look here," Hermione laid the book between them so that she could point to a passage on the yellowed pages. "'Eloise Mintumble, an Unspeakable, had gone to the year 1402 in the year 1899 and was trapped there for five whole days. When Ministry officials managed to retrieve her, her body aged five centuries causing her to die in St. Mungo's. Her time-travelling also caused a phenomenon known as 'the unborn' where no less than twenty-five descendants disappeared from time, a consequence of meeting several relatives from her past. Another disturbance in time was also recorded following her reappearance to the present, the following Tuesday lasted two and a half days while Thursday went by in four hours.' It's impossible." Hermione sighed.

Celine pulled the book towards herself the fragile paper crackling beneath her fingertips. "There has to be a way," She murmured. "-we're not going to go back _that far_ in time. A couple of months. We won't age that drastically and _we know_ better than to talk to anyone from the past. We're better equipped than this Mintumble person."

"That doesn't solve the problem that we still don't have a Time-Turner." Hermione took the book back, closing it with a final _thump_.

Celine sighed as a dull throb pulsated at her temples. Her eyes were drawn to the window where she could see the treetops of the Forbidden Forest. "Did you get the invitation from Slughorn?" She pinched her nose.

Hermione started organizing her belongings on the bedside table. Celine noticed a set of tarnished scales sitting between two framed pictures of her friends and her parents. "I did. Are you attending?"

"Yes. I guess…I don't know. I'm worried about my father. I haven't heard from him since the dance."

"Any luck with the key?"

"The Baron won't talk to me and I haven't seen the Grey Lady anywhere."

"Have you thought about asking Luna?"

Celine looked up at Hermione. "Hermione, you're a genius!"

àß

Celine shifted in her seat trying not to crumple her teal lace skirt. They were seated in Slughorn's office that had been magicked to the size of a banquet hall. Her reflection gazed back at her from the gleaming silverware as the house elves hired for the occasion lifted trays laden with exquisite food. Tonight's affair was more intimate than the usual parties Slughorn had thrown. Instead of guests mixing and socializing freely, they were seated around a large dining table covered with an expensive tablecloth in rich purple that reminded Celine of Roman royalty. Seated around her were a smattering of faces she recognized from the student body as well as famous wizards and witches including Gwegnog Jones, Quidditch player for the Holyhead Harpies.

"A few more minutes and we'll begin with dinner, just waiting on a few more stragglers." Slughorn smiled, brushing his salt and pepper whiskers, his thick fingers toying with the golden chain of his timepiece.

Celine wasn't surprised to find Harry absent but to her disappointment so was a Hermione. Even Ginny had failed to turn up which foiled Celine's plans to make amends with her Quidditch captain while casually asking if Luna still had conversations with the Grey Lady.

* * *

"Celine sweetheart, have you had the chance of meeting young Mr. Wolfe?"

She'd been standing alone after the dessert had been served, pineapple sorbet with candied slices of orange, a crystal glass almost empty of aged mead in hand. This was part of the soiree when the _by invitation only_ came into play, already Celine had noticed a few missing faces from the dinner's previous attendees. The dining table had been removed to make way for a raised platform and what could only be described as a swing hanging from the ceiling. She grabbed another glass of mead from a floating tray, replacing the one she previously held. If she was going to be forced into a conversation with Professor Slughorn while _something_ happened on that raised platform where a gorgeous blonde woman in sheer clothing was climbing into the swing, Celine was going to need another drink. And experience has shown her that the _Forget-Me-Not_ elixir worked faster when slightly inebriated.

"I actually have not, not formally anyway." Celine fixed a smile, extending her hand towards the younger man she vaguely recognized as a Quidditch player on the Slytherin team. Her eyes ran over his pale skin and lips that reminded her of the rose Fred had given her on Bill and Fleur's wedding day and immediately regretted the comparison as she felt a sharp twinge in her chest.

"Well, Mr. Wolfe here has been all Professor McGonagall has been able to talk about in the staff room. Hogwarts most talented Transfigurationist since McGonagall herself."

"Really Professor you are flatter me but, I don't think I could ever claim such a title. And it's just Edmund, please." He said while shaking Celine's hand. Beneath his dark hair she could see his blue -no, _azure_ \- eyes scrutinizing her.

"Well if Professor McGonagall is talking about you in the staff room I wouldn't take it lightly either." Celine said. His fingers had lingered a moment _too_ long on the inside of her wrist and she refused to acknowledge the warm shiver that ran up her arm. Edmund smiled silently in response.

"Right you are Celine, who knows you might be looking at the future Headmaster of Hogwarts. Though you didn't hear it from me." Slughorn winked. "Have you seen Harry? He seems to have not accepted my recent invitations, I was hoping to see him tonight."

"I...was actually expecting him here tonight as well. Since Professor McGonagall moved Draco and I to the tower, I haven't really gotten to see him that often. Well except at Quidditch practice though that hardly counts."

"How are the new living arrangements? Quite a bold move on behalf of the school board, wouldn't you agree? Malfoy used to have the room opposite mine." Edmund added. Celine eyed him, tilting her head to the side a little as if considering the question. In truth, Celine and Draco hardly talk about other matters aside from prefect duties. She had not even ventured close to the staircase that led to his bedroom since that one day. Celine worked to keep her expression neutral.

"Unconventional, yes. But I understand their decision. Especially considering the... _tension_ between our two houses. Professor McGonagall is certainly taking a leaf out of Professor Dumbledore's book in trying to create friendships between all the houses." Celine said, sipping on her mead.

"A good decision as any." Professor Slughorn announced, clapping Celine on the shoulder. Whatever Professor Slughorn said next was immediately dismissed as Celine's attention was brought to the lithe blonde that had seated herself on the swing displaying an alarming amount of cleavage.  
"Aaahhh…the show's about to start. That's my mark." Professor Slughorn clapped his hands together before disappearing towards the performer.

"I think that's my cue as well…" Celine murmured, taking another sip of her drink.

Edmund raised his eyebrows. "You aren't staying for the entertainment?"

A flash. Pink nipples exposed.

"As much as I enjoy indulging my…dark side, I think this is a little too much for me." Celine said, placing her now empty glass on a passing floating tray. "It was nice meeting you, Edmund."

"I, you." He replied with a nod.

As she exited Professor Slughorn's office, Celine cast a look over her shoulder a strange feeling hugging the back of her neck.  
Through the semi-darkness and crowd she saw azure eyes looking back at her.


	8. The Shadows

Chapter 8: The Shadows

She woke with butterfly feelings in her stomach. Familiar, fluttery…a small smile traced on her lips. Hunting horcruxes hadn't given any time to for leisurely competition.  
After grueling weeks of training through heavy rain and cold wind, Celine was hoping that the Quidditch match would help Ginny blow off steam. Maybe then she could finally ask her about Luna.

Entering the Great Hall she located Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione at one of the tables.

"Hey…why does everyone look…tensed? I know it's Quidditch but it's not like we haven't gone against Slytherin before." Celine said, seating herself next to Hermione.

"It's not just…that…" Hermione began but Ginny quickly cut her off.

"How are you feeling? You think we're going to win this one?"

"You've had us training through storms, Gin, I think we'll be fine. Now what's wrong?" Celine eyed them. "I feel as if you guys are keeping something from me."

"It's….your dad. He was in the Daily Prophet. He's alright!" Harry added hastily. "It's just there's been a break in. Someone tried to break into his office at the royal court."

Grabbing the Daily Prophet out of Ron's hands, Celine scanned the article while Hermione cleaned up the cup of tea she had accidentally upset in reaching the newspaper.

"It didn't say he was hurt. Or that anything was taken. It could have just been a random coincidence." Harry continued.  
Folding the newspaper close, Celine untied her hair raking her fingers through it.  
"Nothing is a coincidence." She murmured.

"Oh c'mon Celine, you can't let something like that get in your head. Not _today_ of all days." Ginny said. Raising her eyes to meet her captain's she nodded, exhaling softly. "Maybe not. You're right. I could just be overreacting. Papa's not hurt. People try to break into Buckingham Palace all the time. This time they succeeded."

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as Celine tried her best to refocus her thoughts on the Quidditch match, fighting all desire to rush back to the tower and demand a Floo-conference with Marc from the International Allegiance Ministry officials.

"Celine?" Hermione eventually said.

"Yeah?"

"Won't you eat something?"

She shook her head, pushing her plate away. "I'm not hungry. We should go. The match will start soon."

"We've got an hour before we have to be at the pitch." Ron reminded her.

"I'm not hungry." Celine echoed, shouldering her broom and climbing out of her seat.

* * *

 _Why would someone break into his office and not steal anything? That doesn't make any sense. Were they intending to rob another office and got Papa's by mistake? But why report it in the Daily Prophet if-_

PFFFT!

Celine's breath got knocked out of her chest as the speeding Quaffle slipped past her outstretched fingers, hitting her hard in the chest. A dull throb started in her sternum making it feel as if her lungs had given up.

"CELINE GET IT TOGETHER!" Ginny shrieked overhead, a whirl of aureate and auburn on a broomstick. Celine thought she could see the anger on her captain's face.

It's only been five minutes into the game, the crowd in the stands a divided mass of red and green with a few black smatterings for those who were neutral. The excitement and tension ran thick in the air, last year when the Carrows had been in charge, Quidditch tournaments were a thing of the past. Now that they got it back, everyone was intent on savoring each high-strung moment. The air smelt of grass and buttered popcorn whenever Celine flew over the stands.

Celine threw the Quaffle just as a Slytherin player collided into her. A flash of azure eyes.

 _Edmund._

Fortunately the throw occurred seconds after which meant that Demelza had safely received the Quaffle and was currently soaring towards the goalposts. Celine flew higher, intending to cover another section of the pitch if the Slytherin Keeper managed to block Demelza's throw. An odd sensation traveled through her fingers clasped around the broom handle and instead of following Celine's instructions her broomstick started to climb higher.

"No, this isn't where I want to go." Celine's hands tightened around her broom handle, urging it to fly lower but it was useless. The pitch was starting to look miniaturized when her broom started violently swaying from left to right as if trying to upend her. A queasy feeling started in her stomach as her hair flicked in her face, obscuring Celine's vision.

Without any warning, the broom started to dive gaining speed with each passing second. It was as if all her internal organs had left her body and Celine felt the certainty of doom fill her up. She needed to do something or she was going to go headfirst into the ground...but what? Her broom had gone rouge.

WHACK!

The last thing she saw was green.

* * *

 _Rubble everywhere. Dust. Panic and adrenaline coursed through her veins and her heart pounded erratically. The castle's stone walls were streaked with something dark and oily._

 _Her legs were taking her down twisting corridors that were horribly familiar._

 _"_ _Fred!" Her voice echoed down the darkened corridor. She grappled for her wand muttering 'Lumos'. The light shone on a figure already on the ground, his face hidden behind a curtain of ginger hair. Her legs buckled, pain shot up her kneecaps as her lungs caved in._

"Fred…"

It hurt to talk. Her voice sounded like sandpaper grating against splintery wood. Sweat soaked t-shirt stuck to her back and her hair felt heavy and greasy. A red-headed figure sat on an armchair a few feet away from her bedside slumped into his own chest. Squinting, her heart started to race.

"Fred?" Celine croaked trying to sit up but the terrible throb at the back of her head instantly made the world spin.

Startled the figure leaned forward, reaching for her hand. "No...I...It's George."

Celine closed her eyes, head sinking into the pillow. "What...happened?"

"You're in the Hospital Wing. You got hit with a Bludger to the back of the head. What happened out there, Celine? One moment you were diving, the next, you were knocked off your broom by the Bludger. Malfoy caught you before you hit the ground. Good thing apparently, at least according to Madam Pomfrey. You would've been a lot worse with broken bones as well. Did you lose control of your broom?"

"-water…" Celine winced. In her mind's eye she saw the whites of her knuckles around the broom handle and the ground rushing upwards to embrace her. Flashes of green. "What time...is it?"

Struggling to sit up to reach for the water jug on the bedside table. George hastened forwards, pouring her a glass and helping her drink.

"Dinner...Harry, Hermione and Ron should be here any minute. The entire team came to see you while you were still under but Madam Pomfrey herded them out."

"What are you...What are you doing here?"

"I came to watch the match." George stroked the back of her left hand. His thumb felt warm against her skin. "I wasn't going to miss Gryffindor give Slytherin a thrashing."

Her eyes widened slightly, gripping his hand. "Did we...win?"

The crestfallen look on George's face was all Celine needed. Groaning she slumped further into her pillow but her head started to throb at the slightest pressure against the back of her skull. Sounds of curtains swishing back brought her attention to the matronly woman carrying a tray with a foul looking chartreuse liquid in a plastic goblet.

"Miss Van Allen, glad to see you're up. How is your head feeling?" Madam Pomfrey asked setting the tray down on the bedside table.

"Sensitive."

"I imagine so. That was a nasty fall, would have been much worse if Mr. Malfoy hadn't been there according to Professor McGonagall." Madam Pomfrey handed her the goblet. The stem felt cool in Celine's hands. "This will help to shrink the swelling and lessen the pain. Mr. Weasley, visiting hours are almost over. I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Miss Van Allen needs to get her rest."

"Oh please don't-" Celine began at the same time George hastily stood up saying, "Time must've gotten away from me Madam Pomfrey-..."

Celine met George's gaze and a hollow feeling encapsulated her. She'd never been fond of hospitals, not even the school's hospital wing that she must've have been in a handful of times prior. But never overnight.

"I must insist, Miss Van Allen, you need your rest." Madam Pomfrey eventually said looking between the two.

"I'll see you tomorrow." George said glancing at Celine.

Nodding slowly she watched as George seemed to hesitate by the foot of her bed before exiting the Hospital Wing.

"Drink up the potion, Miss Van Allen. It'll help you sleep." Madam Pomfrey advised as she closed the curtain around her bed.

Celine sighed heavily trying to shake off the dread that settled across her shoulders as Madam Pomfrey's footsteps faded away. Stretching out her fingers she patted the empty spot on the bed where Rascal would normally occupy in the Tower. She missed the feel of his warm body against her. Pulling the sheets gingerly up around her chin, she wondered if there was another person in the Hospital Wing with her but was powerless to check. Every tiny movement sent waves of nausea that made her clutch at her sweaty forehead. Her body felt constrained in her clothes and it was suddenly so warm that pools of sweat started to gather under her arms. Taking a deep breath she drank the chartreuse liquid her tongue instantly rearing up hitting the roof of her mouth as the bitter taste soaked her taste buds. The last thing she remembered was staring at the shadows dancing across the pale green curtains surrounding her bed.

* * *

When she opened her eyes next the fire from the torches had gone out. Mosaic shadows cut across the curtains and as Celine's vision focused she thought she heard the metallic swish of metal chains.

Footsteps. But they seemed to be retreating. Madam Pomfrey?

Celine saw the clear goblet on the nightstand was refilled with the bitter tasting potion. Maybe she was supposed to take it twice?

Her head did feel much better and the motion sickness wasn't as severe.

A cold hand – it had to be – grabbed her by the wrist and forced the goblet out of her hand.  
Orange-yellow light flickered on as Madam Pomfrey arrived at her bedside in a matter of minutes.

"Miss Van Allen are you alright?" Madam Pomfrey gasped finally catching sight of the shattered glass on the floor.  
"Is that the De-Swelling Potion I gave earlier? I instructed you to drink it before bed, Miss Van Allen."  
"I-…I did. Immediately after you left. This was on the nightstand…I thought you came in…" Celine's senses latched onto a maddeningly familiar scent beginning to waft from the solution on the floor.

"There has to be a mistake. You aren't required to take a second dose until tomorrow at lunch."

"Asphodel." Celine murmured remembering the dried flowers in Professor Slughorn's personal potion ingredients cabinet. Only small doses were needed at a time. For the scent to be this strong, it had to be much more than a single drop or two.

It felt like something cold and slimy had slid down her throat. High doses meant death.

"I think someone…is trying to kill me." She eventually said.

* * *

"Are you sure it was asphodel?" Ron asked. Celine sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Yes Ron, just like I told Professor McGonagall, I am absolutely positive it was asphodel juice. I'd know the smell."

There was a tiny dose in her elixirs after all.

"Who'd want you dead?" Harry continued. They were making their way to Potions.

"The thing with Papa…that couldn't be a coincidence, right? There has to be a…connection." Celine said.  
"But they took nothing." Hermione reminded.  
"That's what the Aurors say because they haven't found anything _yet_." Celine interjected. Hermione rolled her eyes. "I think you've got to trust what the Minister of Law Enforcement deems fit to do."

"Do you know what made you do it?" Harry interrupted before Celine could say the sarcastic remark on the tip of her tongue.

She shrugged not wanting to divulge her suspicions just yet. It felt like a fairytale for some reason. Like if she said it out loud it would be jinxed and turn out wrong.

"Celine dear if you would kindly move your things over to the desk where Edmund is currently seating, please." Professor Slughorn said as soon as Celine placed her messenger bag on her usual stool.  
"I'm sorry?"  
"Yes, well, Edmund came to me just the other day confessing his worries about passing his NEWTs in Potions that I thought to myself…Why not have my best potioneer in the year working together at the same bench?" He grinned.

"Oh…Okay." Celine tied her hair into a ponytail, throwing a glance at Hermione. A look of equal shock was painted on her face. Celine had been eager to have a whispered conversation with her about her Bloody Baron suspicions. She _did_ hear the chains. There was something else too…  
As if on cue Celine's senses picked up on the all too familiar scent.  
Teakwood.

"Celine?" Edmund stared at her inquiringly. She could hear him, barely, there was just something…someone behind his shoulder.  
"Fred?" Her voice barely a whisper.  
Edmund followed her gaze, his eyebrows wrinkled. "Celine, there's no one there."  
"No one…You're right. No one." She continued unconvincingly still staring at the spot where the ginger figure had appeared.

It was hard to concentrate that day. Every other minute Celine would feel as if someone was watching her. Whenever she glanced at Edmund's bench he seemed perfectly immersed with preparing his Draught of the Living Death.  
"You're putting in too much." Celine caught his wrist before Edmund poured in more wormwood infusion. Once when she was explaining short cuts that would yield more results, Celine looked up to find his face only a couple of inches away.  
Bright blue eyes.  
Clear eyes.  
Celine jerked back as if something had bit her, banging into her stool causing the contents of her schoolbag to spill across the dungeon floor.

"Damn it."  
"Here let me help." Edmund dove to the ground too.

She could smell it again.  
Teakwood.

"Here you are." Edmund handed her a stack of papers and the Forget-Me-Not Elixir.  
"Thanks." Celine uncorked it, immediately taking a swig. "Is that the bell already? Great. See you next lesson, Edmund."  
"Do you think you could help me with the Polyjuice Potion essay? Maybe meet during study hour?"  
Celine hesitated. A glance towards Professor Slughorn.  
"Yeah okay. See you at the next one then."

* * *

There was no reasoning for what happened the next week. It always started with his scent. Teakwood.

 _"_ _Fred, we've lost them! The others!"  
Celine's heart rate felt like it was in a marathon. Cold sweat trickled down her back.  
"What?! How?!"  
"I don't know! They were right behind me. Fred we've got to go back."  
Malicious laughter danced in the night sky. Stars obscured by the smoke and fear.  
"It's too dangerous."  
"Fred.."  
"No! I can't…can't risk it."  
Celine wasn't sure what happened next. Had they just shared something more in that three seconds their eyes met…or was it just the choking heat from the burning trees, the smell of singed hair and melting plastic, playing tricks on her?  
"We've got to keep moving." George led Celine by the elbow, breaking their eye contact.  
Fred didn't look at her again she knew that having stolen a couple of glances.  
This isn't the time. They were running.  
A flash of green in the sky. The screaming intensified around them.  
"What's that? In the sky." Ginny's voice cracked with a tremble._

The sound of chains brought Celine back to reality. In the foreground, just a few feet ahead a silver shimmer caught her eyes.  
Celine quickened her steps. It looked like the Baron was heading towards the dungeons again.

"Stop." Celine called, her voice echoing off the stone walls.  
What little light illuminating the corridor went out. Celine's breathing quickened.  
"I need to know." Celine said. "Please. You knew that was poison in the goblet. You need to tell me why."  
"I don't owe yeh anything." His voice made the fine hairs on the back of her neck and arms stand up.  
"You obviously cared about Helena. She is somehow linked to this. Helping me would help her." Celine argued. The cold was beginning to sting her eyes.

"I didn't see who did it."  
Celine turned around, swallowing the gasp that threatened to spill from her lips. She wasn't sure if there would ever be a time when she will be comfortable around the Baron. There weren't any discernible eyeballs just a deep darkness that Celine felt could penetrate her soul.  
"He ran before I could tell who he was."  
"It was a boy then?"  
"Aye, a lad. Student. Couldn't see which house."  
"How did you know it was poison?"  
"Lassie, if someone is sneaking around yeh while yer sleeping best believe they don't mean well."  
Celine tried not to fixate on the blood streaks smeared from his eye sockets down his emaciated cheeks.  
"What is this key? The last time we spoke…please don't…I need your help. My father's office was broken into. I'm almost certain it was because of this." Celine said.  
"It'd been buried with her." The bloody Baron said. The soft clinks of his chains sounded hypnotizing combined with the darkness and cold glow coming from the ghost.  
"So how'd it come to my family?"  
"A question I've been asking meself." He said.  
A pregnant pause.  
Celine studied the shackles around his wrists, the blood that was on his breeches.  
Oh.  
Celine looked away before the Baron noticed her gaze.  
"It had been for her-…"  
"Helena?"  
"Yes. She wanted a place of her own. It isn't easy, she'd tell yeh, being one of the founder's daughters. People always poking around and asking questions. High expectations on the poor lass." There was a rumble in his throat. His voice had taken a softer tone. "Of course she liked the library. No one is allowed to talk. No one there to bother her. So that's where I built it. A study room just for her. My mistake was telling Rowena about it."  
Another layer to his voice now: venom.  
"Why did you tell her?" Celine asked.  
"I'm not the evil man the others make me to be. I wanted permission for making a secret addition to the school. Why wouldn't I ask her? She's her mother. I thought I was doing the right thing."  
His last sentence was said with bitterness.  
"Years before I was done. She finished Hogwarts but Helena…she's stuck here since Rowena lived here. Purple had been her favorite color. We spent a bit of time together. She always said-…"

Something fell from the steps below Celine.  
"Who's there?" She asked automatically reaching for her wand. " _Lumos_."

No one there.  
When Celine turned around the Baron was gone too.  
"Oh for Morgana's sake."

* * *

 ** _Celine,_**

 ** _I'm really happy that you'll beat the Burrow over holidays. Wasn't sure what to expect since the nasty situation with your Dad but he's right. No sense in putting you in danger if he is indeed the targeted victim. I was wondering if you'd like to stay with me for a couple of days after Christmas?  
Before you go back to school.  
It'll be the perfect opportunity for you to see what I have planned for the joke shop by hiring an on-site potioneer. _**

**_Hope to hear from you soon,  
George._**

 ** _P/s: Funnily enough Ron has been asking around about running the joke shop too. I always figured he'd end up working in the Ministry with Harry._**


	9. The One Night

Chapter 9: The One Night

"Someone dropped a present for you." Draco said by way of greeting when Celine came downstairs he morning she was due to the Burrow.

"But it isn't Christmas yet."

"You truly are observant, Celine." Draco said. Celine could see his grey eyes above the book he was reading.  
She rolled her eyes, "How'd it get here?"  
Draco shrugged, flipping a page of his book. "It was in front of Thunder when I did rounds this morning."

"Are you sure you'll be okay with handling the secret Santa all by yourself?" Celine asked picking up the present from the coffee table. It felt heavy in her hands and was wrapped in a rich moss green wrapper, her name written in neat calligraphy on creamy white paper. The wrapper had some weight to it as Celine tore into it. Uneven fuzzy white strips curled to the floor its tips jagged and thin.

"Mead. Will you look at that?" Celine raised her eyebrows. Draco shrugged, "I wouldn't know anything about it."  
"Come now, you're going to sit there and lie to me? You're _Draco Malfoy_ , you must know something about mead." Celine sat down beside him. Their arms brushed by accident.  
Eyes meeting for the briefest seconds.  
Draco stood up before Celine could think of something suitable to say.

"I don't know why you'd assume that. I hope you enjoy your holidays." Draco straightened his sweater, leaving her sitting on the sofa alone.

* * *

Christmas morning.  
Snow had started the night before.  
Cold bitter air pierced through her mittens. Maybe she should have waited to open the presents with everyone else in the living room before going out. Mrs. Weasley often knitted a scarf or a pair of mittens alongside the usual sweaters.  
But she couldn't wait that long.  
Celine needed to see him.

From the moment they got to the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley had kept her under close scrutiny. Each spare moment dedicated to baking, cleaning and wrapping last minute gifts. Bill and Fleur would be visiting on Christmas Day while Charlie and Percy had arrived a day earlier.

Snow crunched under her boots as Celine made her way down the familiar path.  
4 a.m.  
This was the only time, the first time she's been left to her own devices. A stream of warm air condensing into vapors from the cold reminded her of being alive.

Cold snow seeped into the knees of her corduroys. Unlike the tombstones around, it looked as if someone had been there recently. A knitted scarf in bright orange dressed the semi-oblong tombstone, clear of any snow or debris. A wreath peppered with large flowers that reminded Celine of blood droplets war propped up against the base. There was also a string of Christmas lights wrapped around it, illuminating its surroundings in a relay of green and red.

"Hi babe." Celine placed the cone of irises she'd gotten from the farmer's market in Diagon Alley. Last minute Christmas shopping was always fun. Harry and Ron clutching parchments with their shopping list, Hermione insisting she needed a new set of quills from the emporium and Celine trying to discretely pull her away without giving away the fact that she'd already gotten it as a Christmas present for her and Mrs. Weasley's steely intent to keep everyone together.

"You-Know-Who is dead Mum." Ron complained. "It's daft for us all to stick together when we can shop twice as fast if we split up."  
"I don't care. It's my family and my rules. You can dictate all you want when you have your own family Ronald Weasley."  
Celine inadvertently glanced at Hermione knowing full well that any romantic notions Hermione harbored for Ron had been stomped out when he abandoned them in the woods hardly a year later on their Horcrux hunt.

"Hardly a year." Celine murmured. Fingers traced the engraved name on marble. "Hermione and I are trying to figure out a way. I can't…I can't just sit here and believe that…that you're gone. There has to be a way. The Department of Mysteries couldn't be the only place where Time-Turners are kept. That's just stupid…they have to have a backup somewhere. Who invented Time-Turners anyway?  
I've been seeing you…almost every day. But if…you were a ghost. Why would you not come and see me by now?" Celine sighed.

Tears prickled her eyes. The sky was slowly brightening. Dusty pink. Inky purple and powder blue.

"I miss you."  
Her voice just below a whisper. Frozen tears clung to her eyelashes.

* * *

Boxing Day came much too soon in Celine's opinion, memories of the previous day still playing in her mind. Marc had surprised her by arriving at the Burrow just after Christmas brunch with an armful of Christmas presents. He'd gotten everyone something but for Celine herself, a gorgeous lily cluster Harry Winston diamonds to call her own. She'd know the maker anywhere. His work being impeccable master pieces, Celine had fallen in love with his designs since she saw them at the Muggle natural history museum in London when they were having an exhibition.

But having her father there on Christmas Day, even if it was just for a couple of hours was perhaps the best gift Celine gotten that day. There were the usual snacks and sweets from Hagrid, a mint colored knit sweater with an image of a grey cauldron on it, books and beauty products including an expensive permanganate and citrus perfume and lotion set from George.

"I think you missed one." Ginny pointed at a small box wrapped in a familiar rich moss colored wrapper which held a thin black leather bracelet with a glass emerald stone set in the middle. The card was simply signed 'DM'.

"Who's it from?" Hermione asked.  
Celine didn't know why she felt the strong urge to cover the card from Hermione's gaze. "A friend. From Beauxbaton."  
"Why are you looking like that?"  
"Like what?"  
"Like you're hiding something. You're lying aren't you? Tell us who the bracelet is really from then."  
"I'm not. You're being paranoid."

Celine turned in her camp bed, watching the heavy torrent of snowflakes fall from the sky some zooming in straight lines pulled down by gravity, others swaying this way and that caught in the wind's strong current. The glass setting of the emerald felt cool against her skin.  
Funnily enough though they never talked about it, Celine had also gotten a Christmas present for Draco. A whole bag of premium roasted coffee beans from the jungles of Indonesia, the label promising rich decadent smoothness with each cup.

Today George had promised to take her to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes branch in Diagon Alley where his and Fred's original apartment was located.  
"One of our busiest days, Boxing Day. Kids returning their gifts and buying our products with the money they get back." George explained. "You'd get to see how the shop runs under normal circumstance without the holiday lull."

Mrs. Weasley sent them off with a picnic basket filled with turkey sandwiches and thermals filled with broccoli cheddar soup. There was already a line forming outside of the joke shop when they Apparated a street away.

A taller girl with thick hair in braids approached them as George unlocked the front door. Celine recognized her immediately.  
"Angelina! What are you doing here?" Celine asked.  
"Didn't George tell you? He hired me to work the shop with him. What are you doing here?"  
"Oh…kinda the same…reason. Filling in…the potioneer's spot." Celine caught herself. Fred's name like a kiss on her lips.  
"You were right. Things were getting hectic. I mean…" George gestured towards the growing line. "Celine, if you could help brew some hot chocolate for the customers while we set up the shop?"  
Celine glanced between the two of them. We meant him and Angelina.  
"Uhh…sure thing."

The day passed by quickly. Celine never fancied children but could see why George loved working in a joke shop. Seeing a kid's face light up with pleasure as the fake wands turned into rubber chickens or the horrified mixed with astonishment looks from parents upon seeing their child turn into a canary for three seconds after eating a canary cream sampler was satisfying. The sweets section of the shop ran out at a rate of two hours sometimes sooner and Celine slowly came into realization. It was an ingenious plan that George had, having an on-site potioneer slash baker meant that they could keep up with the customer's demands on the spot without losing money, it was also cost effective in a way that didn't waste inventory and customers would always be getting fresh candy. It was genius.  
By the time it was nearing closing hours Celine felt confident that she could make every flavor of the Skiving Snackboxes in her sleep.

"Angie, why don't you clock out early? Celine and I can handle closing the shop." George said, locking the door behind their last customer.  
Angelina looked between the two with narrowed eyes. "I guess I could…you did well today Celine."  
But there was something in her expression that made Celine turn away, busying herself with the till's drawer. "Thanks Angelina."  
There was no way she was going to be comfortable with calling her 'Angie'.

"So you didn't mention Angelina started working here." Celine hated how accusatory her tone sounded. George is after all in perfect liberty to hire whomever he pleases.  
"You were right Celine, the store got a little overwhelming without Verity. I thought I told you this?"

Celine shrugged crumpling up pieces of greasy parchment paper while simultaneously supervising the self-cleaning cauldrons. "Did you make a lot of profit today?"

"Decent amount. Better than last year's lot definitely." George pointed out.

A heavy silence settled between the two. Both instantly reminded of the year before.

"I wish I got to spend more time with him." Celine said, tucking her hair behind her ear.  
"He missed you a lot…when you were away."  
"It was lonely."

Another pause.

"We're done here." George said putting the money away in what Celine recognized as being one of Hagrid's leather pouch creations with mammoth sized sharp teeth around the neck. "I'll whip us up some dinner in the apartment."  
"Shouldn't we go back to the Burrow?"  
"Mum knows we're having dinner here. I told her not to expect us back. If that's okay."

Celine felt caught off guard. On one hand, she didn't see what was wrong about having dinner and just spending the night at George's –and Fred's _dammit Celine he's dead!_ – apartment, it had been a tiring day while the other hand, she was terrified. She wasn't sure if staying the night would be a good idea. She thought of Rascal running around in the Burrow, probably wondering where she was. He always slept in the crook of her arm after all.

"I mean if she's alright with it. I don't want her to think I'm purposely avoiding her hospitality."  
"Rubbish. She won't mind." George locked the entrance behind them.

* * *

The scent of honeyed grilled chicken filled the kitchen. Celine stood at the island supervising the knife cutting colorful bell peppers and spring onions.  
"Do you have some ginger? I think it'll go well with the honey."  
George laughed. "I don't think you understand how 'I'll cook for you' works. It means you sit by the island with preferably this in hand instead of this." George exchanged Celine's wand with a sangria glass. A burst of lovely white peach combined with the sour acidity of wine danced across her tongue. "I just wanted to help." Celine grinned while pretending her eyes weren't drawn to Fred's bedroom door every couple of seconds.  
"I've…been in there a couple of times. I…miss him too."  
Celine nodded. "Of course."  
"You can go in if you'd like. I haven't moved anything. Just…dusted." George massaged the back of his neck. Celine missed the long hairstyles that the twins used to have when they had been in school.  
"Dinner will be done soon." Celine said.  
"Oh for Merlin's sake Celine." George chuckled.

Firewhiskey and honey went well together. The cooling spell George knew from some previous joke shop experiment proved useful for Celine's orange and chocolate mousse to set. There was a cozy feeling that enveloped the apartment with the fire crackling in the ornate fireplace.  
"I'll sleep in here tonight." Celine declared, fluffing up the pillow behind her head. Her body felt like it had melded together with the sofa the cool leather against her skin was so relaxing.  
"No, no. You should take my bed. Unless you want…"George's gaze strayed to Fred's door.

Celine's stomach lurched at the idea.

"I don't think I could."

"So you'll stay in my room then. I can't ask a guest…"  
"George, I'm fine. Really. The sofa is comfy. And there's your Mum's blanket to keep me warm in case the fire burns out in the night." Celine insisted. She wrapped Mrs. Weasley's knitted blanket around herself to prove her point.  
"Okay well, I'm only a door away if you need anything." George said.

From the moment George left Celine on her own in the living room with the dimmed fire she was wide-awake. The shadows seemed to have taken on lives of their own. A strange orb-shaped light caught her attention. It was illuminating from within itself, drifting and eventually stopping in front of Fred's door. Celine was immediately reminded of Hermione's Muggle ghost stories that she used to tell in the Gryffindor tower. Lavender and Parvati would refuse to listen but eavesdropped anyway and would always shriek unhappily whenever the main character got murdered.  
 _Murdered_.

Celine's curiosity thumped in her head like a rabbit's foot. It didn't help that every time she tried to close her eyes it felt like the orb somehow grew brighter so it felt like she was trying to sleep under an afternoon sun instead.  
"I shouldn't be doing this." Celine muttered to herself, a heavy dread settling in her stomach. She cast a wary eye at George's bedroom door, tiptoeing past, making sure to avoid the creaky floorboards.

The door opened quietly much to her surprise. Immediately Celine was overwhelmed with the scent of teakwood. George hadn't lied. It looked like nothing had been moved since the last time Celine had been in there. But when she ran her finger across the dresser's surface, it came away dust-free. But the bed was still unmade, as if Fred would be bursting through the front door at any moment. As if he'd lie on it again.  
Celine thought that the cream colored sheets reminded her of the stiff tops of burnt meringue fresh from the oven.  
There were photo frames on his nightstand, one of the entire Weasley family – the other a photo of them spending Christmas together at Grimmauld Place. Their last Christmas together.  
They were laughing in the picture, Celine with a tankard of Butterbeer in hand and Fred with his arm around her, twirling her around and spilling the Butterbeer down the side of her hand.  
Celine replaced the photo frame as her eyes burned with unshed tears.

 _"_ _What are you thinking about?" Fred asked, tucking Celine under the blanket with him. They had stolen away from Grimmauld Place. Mere moments after the picture was taken.  
"I'm thinking that I never want to leave." Celine smiled. Fred kissed her gently. Her smile grew against his lips.  
"I wish that could come true. Tell me, are you really intent on finishing Hogwarts?"  
"Yes." Celine said carefully choosing her words. Her fingers drifted over his hands, his broad shoulders hunched around her made her feel disconnected from the outside world. If only. "It was the one thing Mama ever wanted me to do. Finish Hogwarts." His skin felt warm beneath her touch.  
"Well let's just enjoy the time we have for now then." Fred kissed the crown of her head. She could hear him inhaling deeply._

 _They talked through the night. Fantasized about having a cottage in the middle of a forest, by a river, Fred wanted three kids, she didn't care as long as they had a sweet cat and a dog too. Celine remembered listening to his heart beat. Remembered the touch of his fingers against her skin, his kisses trailed a pathway between her breasts down her stomach and the waistband of her delicate underwear._

"Celine what are you doing?"  
"I'm sorry." She leapt to her feet. "I didn't mean…"  
"No, no. I was just…worried. I didn't know where you went." George closed the door behind him. "I'm glad you're…okay."  
Celine shook her head. Smiled through her tears.  
"You're a terrible liar George."  
"It got a smile, didn't it?"

Shadows cast his face in profile, the moonlight picking out distinct features. His forehead, his eyes, his nose with a small scar – _had that always been there?_ \- the curve of his lips. A small part of her wondered if he'd taste like Fred too? Would his kiss cause her knees to go weak and the butterflies to rage a storm in her stomach?  
Their lips touched for the briefest moment just as she was about to give herself completely into it when her eyes caught sight of something standing behind his shoulder. A figure, identical to George except for the fact that this figure was tinged grey. Like he'd been dead.

Celine jerked backwards.

"I'm sorry George…I can't…" Celine stood up, flustered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…I'm sorry…"  
"Stop, please." George grabbed her arms that were frantically wringing themselves.  
"We're only fooling ourselves."  
He let go of her.  
"George…I'm sorry…"  
"Please…stop. Don't make me this harder." George finally said. "Just go back to sleep."  
Celine fell silent aware that something inside her was breaking but also knew it was for the best.  
She didn't know how long she laid on the sofa awake or how long George had stayed in Fred's room but when she finally opened her eyes, dusty rose colored sunrays penetrated through the slits of the blinds in the living room. The door to George's bedroom left ajar. Fred's door shut firmly.

She sat up hearing soft clinks of metal against ceramic.  
"Did I wake you?"  
"No. I…was waking up. Why are you awake so early?"  
"Should probably get you back to the Burrow in case Mum is wondering where you are." George said handing her a mug of fresh brewed tea.

"George…about last night. I'm sorry. But it's wrong. You know that."  
"No, I don't. I don't understand why-…"  
"Because we both…we don't really feel that way about each other. We're just…trying to fill a void-"  
"And how do you know that, Celine? How can you possibly know how I feel for you?"  
"Because-…"  
"You're the only person he truly loved. You were a part of him."  
"And so are you. You're his twin. I can't believe you would even think…oh Morgana…I can't believe you would think that somehow…I could even replace you."

George fell silent.

"George."

"You should get ready."

* * *

When they arrived at the Burrow Celine immediately sensed something amiss. The curtains were drawn and the back door that was usually propped open to invite guests was shut. Even the gang of gnomes that normally played at the end of the garden weren't there.  
Celine entered through the kitchen door. "Is something wrong?"  
Mrs. Weasley, Harry, Hermione and Ginny were sitting at the kitchen table. Mrs. Weasley had a handkerchief in one hand, in the other Celine could just make out a black envelope.

"Oh Celine, Arthur told me what it means-"

"What? What, what means?" Celine took the envelope that she was proffering with a shaky hand. Celine glanced at George. He had his arm around Mrs. Weasley's shoulders, patting the poor woman gently. Harry and Hermione stood up both looking at a loss for words. Embossed on the front of the envelope is the Ministry's emblem.

 ** _Celine Helena Van Allen,_**

 ** _We are deeply saddened to inform you that at 8.12pm last night, your father Marc Thomas Van Allen was found murdered in his private rooms. A full investigation has been launched-…_**


	10. The Mead and the Elixir

**Chapter 10: The Mead and the Elixir**

Celine felt like her head was going to explode.  
The last couple of days a whirlwind of black and white.  
Black satin trimmed suit.  
Black lace dress.  
Black patent leather and crocodile print stiletto.

White calla lilies.  
White satin linings in the coffin.  
White runners going through the funeral home.

It all felt like a dream.  
Each night curled in her blankets, she'd have the sudden urge to write to him. To ask him about his day. And he just wasn't there.  
Just like Fred.  
Now the shadows that followed her weren't just of Fred.  
She'd see him too. Just like Fred. Not a ghost. Just something that occasionally appeared just out of the corner of her vision.

Then there were the people. Why didn't they understand she wanted to be left alone?  
Someone constantly watching her, making sure she was okay just added to the burden she felt. The gnawing loneliness that came with having to come to terms of becoming an orphan.

"The important bit is that you have memories of him with you." Harry pointed out. They were sitting in the Burrow's kitchen, their trunks packed and ready to leave when they receive the signal from Professor McGonagall.

Celine was barely aware of Hermione shooting a look at Harry. Instead she said, "He's right 'Mione. I had more time with Papa than I did Fred."  
A wave of self-pity washed over her making her mouth grimace with self-disgust. Spying the bottle of mead she'd receive over Christmas she grabbed it from where it peeked out of her leather messenger bag.

"I'm opening this." Celine announced.  
"Oh, I don't think we should. Professor McGonagall should be sending the signal any time now-…" Hermione began. Celine was already pouring the drink into a glass.

"Anyone want some? No? Cheers." She took a swig from the glass, making a face. Her tongue was overwhelmed with the bitter fluid and it reared up, hitting the roof of her mouth. It burned going down her throat.  
It was a different kind of burning though. One that suddenly made her fingers clench or spasm violently. Her throat was tightening.

"Guys…" She gasped, clawing at her throat. It felt like her skin was too tight for her body. Her throat screamed for any sort of moisture, each swallow of saliva meant pain. Celine could faintly here someone screaming in the background.

* * *

She slowly blinked her eyes, heavy and sticky with sleep. There was a soft blue light illuminating from the opposite wall. The disinfectant scent of clean woolen blankets surrounded her.

"Celine…oh thank Merlin, Celine." Mrs. Weasley's voice said from somewhere on her right. "Thank goodness you're alright."

Her throat hurt. Struggling to sit up against her pillows she tried to reach for the jug of water on her bedside table.  
"Stop, lay back down, I'll get that for you. Just rest dear."Mrs. Weasley bustled to the nightstand.  
"Where am I?" Her vision slowly came into focus.  
"St. Mungo's." Mrs. Weasley handed her the tall glass filled with warm barley water. It felt like silk going down her throat, warming up her body. Her toes felt warm and she could feel the tip of her fingers again.

"What happened?"  
"Celine...I don't know how to tell you…you were poisoned. That mead you drank...if the boys didn't get you to St Mungo's immediately…" Mrs. Weasley's face was overwrought with emotion. "So soon. We could have lost you."  
"Where is everyone?"  
"They had to go back to school. Professor McGonagall told them they'd be able to drop in after lessons tomorrow." Mrs. Weasley said. "I'm just so glad you're safe. Arthur, George and Percy should be down here as soon as they get off work. Fleur even dropped some homemade chicken soup."  
"Oh please Mrs. Weasley, I don't want to hassle anyone-…"  
"You aren't a hassle dear. Why would you think that? We care about you. I think some people are going to want to ask some questions about the mead though. Do you remember who it was from? Ron said it had been a gift?"

"I don't…I don't know. Draco said it was left in front of Thunder's portrait…back at school. If it was from him… why wouldn't he just bring it in?"  
"Draco? You mean Narcissa's son? Why would he want to kill you? Her life and his are much better off without Lucius!" said.  
"That's the thing Mrs. Weasley, I don't know." Her eyes fell on the bracelet with the single emerald. She hadn't even noticed she was still wearing it. "It did came in the same wrapping paper though…"  
"Wrapping paper can be bought anywhere. Murder is a very serious accusation, best be careful with how you connect the dots dear."

The door swung open revealing a wizened beaked-nose wizard wearing a Healer's uniform.  
"Miss…" He peered at the chart in his hands. "-Van Allen? Yes, you are one lucky duck. Lucky your friends were quick on their feet. Another five minutes and the poison would have been fully absorbed by your circulatory system, coagulating your blood-…oh err…yes…quite unnecessary for you to know the details." The Healer coughed catching the menacing look from Mrs. Weasley. He redirected his gaze towards Celine. "You should be able to return to school in a day or so. I'll have to drop in tomorrow but if you continue making progress the way you are now, I don't see why not. Wouldn't want you to miss too much of school. Is this your final year?"  
"Yes."  
"Well good luck on your exams then." The Healer smiled exiting the room. "Oh and before I forget, Healer Leonard wanted me to ask you to stop by his office before you leave."

* * *

Celine held onto the Forget-Me-Not elixir bottles tightly. She had taken double the dosage – with expressed permission from Healer Leonard – after learning what he had to say.

"It appears that someone has switched out the elixir you've been drinking. It isn't Forget-Me-Not but it's something quite similar with the small exception that it enhances your anxiety rather than combat it." Healer Leonard explained.  
"I don't understand how someone could switch it out. I always carry the vials with me." Celine said.  
"Did you ever ask someone to hold your things while at a party? A stranger perhaps?" Healer Leonard asked. Celine's eyebrows wrinkled. "I don't know where you get your impression of Hogwarts, Healer Leonard but there hasn't been any parties that would jeopardize the safety of a student."  
"No, just Christmas presents."

The smile slipped off of Celine's face. "What am I supposed to do now? I can't leave these in my room, what if something happens and I need to take them?"  
"That's another thing I've been meaning to have a talk with you about. I think it's time we wean you off the elixirs."  
"What?! But…I need them…"  
"That's true. But we're past the adjustment period Miss Van Allen and really, it's not healthy to be using the elixir as a crutch-…"  
"I'm not using it as a crutch."  
"The very fear you have about leaving the vials in your room says differently."  
"Look, okay. I'll leave it in my room. But please Healer Leonard, I need to stop seeing these… _things._ I'm not getting enough sleep. My dreams are so vivid that it's affecting my sleep quality. I can't…function like this."  
"There, there Miss Van Allen. Remember what we talked about. It's all just a manifestation of your guilt. A guilt that you have no reason for bearing in the first place."  
"If I had been there-…"  
"Either you would have been seriously injured or would have died along with him. You know this. Everyone has their destiny on Earth. Yours hasn't been fulfilled yet."  
"And Fred's was?" Celine asked darkly.  
"Point is Miss Van Allen, we've all got to move on. It's like holding a piece of coal in your hand. That coal is your sadness and anger and though it's simmering the way embers do, you're holding it tightly in your hand. Eventually you're going to burn yourself. That pain will burn you more than it will hurt others. Stop before it's too late."  
Celine grabbed the vials from his desk, making sure they were securely in her bookbag before shaking his hand to leave.

"Remember what I said Celine, don't continue to dwell in the past and forget to live."

So here she was sitting in her room in Hogwarts, clutching the vials tightly to her chest. Professor McGonagall had questioned her before she could get back to her room.

"I realize this is a difficult time for you Miss Van Allen if there is anything I can do to help, please let me know. I know the Aurors are looking into the investigation of your father's death-…"

"And?"

"I'm afraid there's nothing new that I can add other than what the Ministry have already told you."

"-there's no leads then." Celine tried to mask the disappointment in her voice but it came out thick and husky anyway.

"Miss Van Allen if there's anything I can do-…"

"Professor…do you happen to know who invented the Time-Turner?" Celine asked. Professor McGonagall leant back against her leather chair with her lips pursed further defining the lines around them.  
"Why do you ask?" Her eyes were narrowed behind her spectacles.  
Celine shrugged. "I was just curious. We were talking about it in Charms once and how it's disastrous to you know…go back in time for more than a couple of hours."  
"Yes…disastrous is quite simply an understatement Miss Van Allen, it can be quite the catastrophe. Days became longer…people disappeared…Miss Granger was asking something quite similar not long ago. I hope you two aren't thinking of anything you shouldn't be doing. Messing with time is dangerous business."  
"It doesn't matter though does it, Professor? They've all been destroyed at the Ministry."

"Well, yes."

"Weren't they?"

"Of course, of course they were."

"Then I guess you can tell me who originally invented them. I mean, what harm can it do Professor?"

"Miss Van Allen…you must understand that there hasn't been any official conclusion as to who was the original creator of the Time-Turners, it is after all simply the matter of being able to contain Reversal Charms in a stable container. The problem is the container. There is some magical recipe that only the Department of Mysteries have managed to create."

"So there isn't an official inventor then?"

"Not one that has been recorded, no."

"Well thanks anyway Professor."

"Miss Van Allen…may I advise you please? I know that it isn't quite my place but…I feel that you need to look ahead and push forwards. I think Mr. Weasley would've liked that for you."

Celine felt her heart rate increasing. She couldn't understand it, an overwhelming urge to drink her Elixir swept through her. Clenching her fists she clutched at the straps of her messenger bag.

"Also, I need to talk to you about your recent homework grades in Transfiguration. Now I understand that Professor Slughorn has you tutoring Mr. Wolfe in Potions. I think it would be a splendid idea if you would allow him to help you with a thing or two in Transfiguration. Because frankly my dear if you intend to pass the subject in your NEWTs, you're going to need to put a bit more effort into it."

"I…uhh…sure. If you think it will help, Professor. I'm sorry if I…uh…let you down in some way."

The Professor's gaze softened. "There's nothing for you to apologize for. Just try to work a little harder in class. I know things have been rather difficult, but you have the rest of your life to look forward to Miss Van Allen, and I can't stand here and watch you throw it away."

Celine smiled and nodded. She picked up her luggage and exited the Headmistress's office. It was dinner time. The sounds of students eating and talking echoed up the moving staircases. Celine's eyes casually drifted across the colored stones, reading the names and picturing the faces that she once knew. She didn't know why she did it but she found herself walking down a familiar corridor.  
Each step she took felt heavier than the last. Each step a cold stab to the heart. Her eyes knew what they were looking for, that sudden burst of citrus brightness amidst the grey castle stone walls. Her index finger traced his name.

From the corner of her eyes she thought she saw someone running towards her then was suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of coconut and mangoes.  
"Oh my goodness Celine." Hermione breathed, hugging her friend tightly. "I'm so glad that you're okay. I was so scared. We were all so scared."

"Hermione," Celine hugged her back trying not to laugh. "-hey, I'm fine. I'm fine."

"No you don't understand…you didn't see…you grew so pale…" Hermione cringed. Celine could tell she was relieving the moment.

"Hey, hey…" Celine gripped Hermione's shoulders, digging her fingers into her muscles. "Come back here. This moment. It's okay. I'm okay."

Hermione sighed, hugging Celine again.

"You want to walk with me to the Tower? Where's Harry and Ron?" Celine asked picking up her luggage.  
"They're having extra Quidditch practices tonight."  
Celine's eyes widened. "What? I should go down there."  
"No." Hermione caught her arm. "Ginny wanted me to say it's okay if you missed this practice. I was hoping to see you. Professor McGonagall said that you would be back after dinner."

"Well I'm here. Hermione…have you totally given up on the Time-Turner idea?"

Hermione glanced at her sharply. "Didn't we talk about this? It's too dangerous."

"Not if we can figure out the instructions to make a container to hold the Reversal Charm." Celine launched into an explanation of the things she had learnt while questioning Professor McGonagall earlier.

"You think that you can figure out the ingredients needed for the glass container?" Hermione asked.  
Celine laughed. "I think plan A should be to trying to figure out this charm. It doesn't sound easy."  
"I don't think it was ever meant to be easy." Hermione agreed. Celine paused in front of Thunder's portrait.

"We need to find this study. I need to talk to the Baron. I feel like there's more to this than…" Celine paused watching Thunder cock his head. Bold yellow eyes surveyed her regally. "-meets the eye. I can't believe we've never noticed this before."

"What?"

"Portraits. Hermione, we have portraits!" Celine said. "I'll see you later. I think there's a way that I can find out more about this mysterious study."

When she climbed through the portrait hole she was disappointed to find that no one was there.

 _Did you think Draco was going to wait for you like Hermione?_

A glance at the portraits immediately told her that Godric and Salazar must be off to some other event at another more entertaining portrait. She was glad to find Rascal on the back of the sofa. Picking him up she cooed into his unusually large ears, "Hello baby. How are you? Have you been trying to sneak into the Owlery? Did the house-elves feed you?"

"Celine there you are. Where were you last night? You didn't show up at the Prefects' meeting."

Instinctively she held Rascal closer to her body. "Draco…I thought you would've been downstairs."

"I don't have any appetite right now."

Celine glanced at the portraits again and sighed. "There's something I need to ask you and you need to tell me the truth. I need to be able to trust you." She looked into his grey eyes.

Draco blinked slowly. She watched him cross the room from his staircase and sat down on the sofa. "I'll try to satisfy your curiosity."

Celine placed Rascal on the armchair and took the opposite end of the sofa. "Did you send me the mead?"

"No, I found in front of Thunder's portrait. What's going on? Where were you last night?"

"But the wrapping paper is the same as your gift." Celine murmured.

"And that makes you think I sent you the mead? Celine, what are you asking exactly?"

"The mead was poisoned."

All color seemed to drain from his face. He appeared older than he actually was.

"I can't believe it. You can't think…I wanted…to poison you? After everything I…"

"You have done it in the past, haven't you? Dumbledore?" Celine reminded him. Draco shot her a dark look. "That was a desperate situation. And you honestly think that I would jeopardize everything to… kill you? Why? I have absolutely no motif to."

Celine heaved out a sigh, rubbing her face with the tips of her fingers. "I know…I know it all sounds mad. I'm sorry. You have every right to be upset I just…I need to be sure because…I haven't…I haven't had a decent night's sleep and I'm not…trying…to lay awake at night wondering if the person I live with is going to murder me in my sleep."

"I think you had your answer before even talking to me."

Celine glanced at him in confusion.

"You're wearing my bracelet."

A small smile on her lips. "It's a pretty thing. I wouldn't…then how did the mead have the same wrapping paper?"

Draco sighed. "There's a shop in Hogsmeade. On Upper St. Clair street. It's called _Hunter's_. That's probably where the mead came from. I had the bracelet gift wrapped there. They probably use the same wrapping paper for every one of their customers. You don't happen to have the bottle it came in do you?"

Celine shook her head.

"Well I never took a good look at it, but perhaps we can drop by for a visit and ask some questions."

Rascal jumped in between them, shooting a haughty expression at Draco. Celine tried not to laugh and scratched the cat behind his ears. "Thank you…Draco. For helping. I mean…I know you don't need to. And this bracelet really is pretty."

Draco shrugged. He had the funniest expression on his face, sort of torn between being pleased and embarrassed at the same time. "You too…er…for the coffee. I…it was noted."

"I'm going upstairs. I need to lie down." Celine said picking up her luggage.

"Wait, you're only just now arriving?"

"The mead was poisoned, Draco."

"I didn't realize you _drank_ it."

* * *

1 a.m.  
Celine had finished her rounds. Bidding goodbye to Gloria Clearwater, a fifth year Ravenclaw prefect she made her way back to the Tower.

All the while her mind kept repeating the close call with the mead. A morbid connection began in her mind wondering if that it was a message for her to commit suicide.  
Celine shook her head. These thoughts weren't positive. It was almost as if the elixir wasn't working anymore.  
 _Yes it is, you're just not used to the lower dosages. You're being paranoid._

To prove a point to herself she thought of the last time those apparitions of Fred or Marc have come to her and most of them occurred after completing mountainous homework and replying endless sympathy and condolences letters. It brought back all manners of unpleasant memories from her mother's funeral.  
All her energy was directed into not opening _that_ door.

The proceedings had been a mess. Gathering her belongings from the simple bakery where Helena had created the most delightful pastry creations attracting both Muggles and wizards alike. Had it been her father who arranged the funeral? Or had it been his assistant?  
Celine only remembered the cold train ride back from Beauxbaton. She remembered the empty carriages and the surreal quietness that enveloped her.

A relaxing bubble bath was what she needed. The personal en-suite in her bedroom has only a shower but Celine supposed the short distance between the Tower and the luxurious Prefects' bathroom is negligible.

When she entered the mermaid usually standing watch making sure that girls wouldn't walk in on guys or vice-versa was fast asleep. Thin blonde hair blew over her face as she snored lightly. The goblets were still burning brightly in their holders despite the late hour.  
That was fine.  
Celine carefully chose to open the taps that attracted her attention that night. From cool jades to peaceful teals the Olympic-sized bathtub was soon filled with bubbles all shades of blue and green while the air was fragranced with the sweet, refreshing scent of mint, tea tree and green apples.  
She wondered briefly why there was even a need for such a large bathtub, Celine's mind imagining orgies back when Hogwarts wasn't Hogwarts. Had there even been a time?

The Roman daybed was comfortable beneath her and the cream coverings smelled fresh and clean. Her legs splayed on either side so that her skirt hiked further up.  
It's been _so long_.  
Her fingers fluttered to the ends of her pleated skirt, stroking her inner thigh. Celine kicked off her prim school-approved Mary Janes and settled back against the goose-feather pillow. Her left hand unbuttoned the white blouse and dove into her bra, pinching her nipples. Closing her eyes she felt her fingers brush the waistband of her dainty underwear.  
The last time was perhaps when she accidentally walked in on Draco.

In an instant she was brought back to that moment.  
Draco pumping his dick in what he thought was the confines of his room. She could remember the sweat on his chest and shoulders. An involuntary lick of her lips as she thought about his glistening tip.  
What would it taste like?  
What would it feel like to wrap her lips around that large dick?  
There had been stark white scars around his stomach, crisscrossing down his hips. What she would give to kiss those scars, trace them with her tongue to wherever it ended. Her fingers pinched her left nipple so that it grew into a hard point that she could roll between her thumb and her index fingers. The other hand dipped into her underwear brushing the fine hair that had been trimmed a day or so ago. She could feel how wet she was getting.  
Celine's toes curled as she imagined Draco's fingers touching her.  
Maybe his tongue too.

"Mmmm…Draco…" She murmured in pleasure, a small purr at the back of her throat.  
"Well this is an interesting twist." An all too familiar voice said causing her eyelids to fly upwards. Her hand pulled out of her underwear.  
"No please, don't let me stop you. Do continue." Draco grinned.

Celine felt the heat on her cheeks and could only imagine how ridiculous they must look to him. "This is supposed to be a single gender bathroom, Draco." She said.  
"It isn't when the guardian doesn't have any objection." He glanced towards the mermaid's portrait that was still asleep.  
"I think we can finally call it even then." His eyes were intently on her body, taking every inch of her displayed legs and delicate underwear with the pastel stripes. She felt her nipples twitched and realized her shirt was still open.  
 _Of course it would be on the day my underwear and bra don't match. Of course.  
_ "Draco…if you could please…" Celine covered herself up.  
"Your secret's safe with me. After all, who do I have to tell?"


	11. The Snake and The Library

**Chapter 11: The Snake and The Library**

Celine hadn't expected for Draco to still be up whenever she returned to the Tower.  
"Celine, look you shouldn't feel…embarrassed."  
"Who said I was embarrassed? Just shocked that my intimate moment would be disrupted."  
"The way that you're avoiding eye contact tells me something more."

Celine met his eyes. There was something she couldn't place – _something_ -  
"Celine…"  
"Mmm?"  
"Did you hear a word I just said?" A slow smirk.  
"Something about not being embarrassed." Celine smiled back. She couldn't help it. What did she have to lose anymore anyway? "I'm not."  
"Good…because fuck Merlin that was really hot." Draco chuckled.  
A snappy retort at the tip of her tongue.  
"What was hot?" Godric asked from his portrait. Salazar was walking behind him.  
"Celine, I hope you're well." Godric's concerned expression turned on her. At the same time Salazar was telling Draco, "Don't use Merlin's name in vain boy. He was a great wizard."

"I've been better…his things will be sent to the estate. I'll probably have to go through it during Easter." Celine shrugged. She was highly aware of Draco standing close to her.  
"So you have no idea who sent you the mead?" Salazar asked.  
"Well…Draco is taking me to the store where the mead came from so we're going to try looking for leads from there." She looked at him surprised to find his gaze already on her.  
"It'll have to be during a Hogsmeade weekend." He reminded her.  
"Obviously." Celine adjusted her shirt also highly aware of her nipples grazing the front of her white French shirt. "I'm going to be in my room."

That night a note came to her window via a vaguely familiar eagle owl.  
 ** _  
I have a lingering question to ask which I hope you don't mind me asking about it. Did you say my name in the Prefects' bathroom?_**

 ** _-DM_**

* * *

Light broke through the night sky, mauve and lilac shards cutting the clouds when Celine returned to the Tower. The wind had picked up leaving her shivering. Ginny had called practice over in the nick of time, rain was just beginning to pour coating the window in thousands of water droplets.  
Draco sat by the fireplace, book in his hands.

"This is soothing." Draco broke the silence. Even he seemed surprised in himself for engaging in a conversation.  
"Reading? Yeah I share the same feeling. Listen…I was going to make some hot chocolate on the stove. Would you like some? I know you like coffee but…"  
"Err…yes…that sounds great actually."

Celine measure out the cocoa and salt while a small silver knife cut the vanilla beans and a pot heated up the milk. Whenever she looked up, he was already watching her.  
She felt like she was _on show_. She rubbed a palm against her heated cheek. Celine wondered if Draco had ever smiled that way in Malfoy Manor.

"Have you always…done this yourself?" Draco waved a hand in her general direction. Celine shrugged her eyes on the steaming pot of milk.  
"Uhh..not really…Mama died…when I was twelve. Papa has always shifted us around. You know…er…well I don't know how much you would know about the Muggle royal court,"  
"Quite well surprisingly enough. Though he would never admit it back in the day, wizards and Muggle government were quite dependent upon each other." Draco said.  
"Really? See…I didn't know that."  
"Not a lot of people do…you were telling me about…"

"Right. Well…recently I've been able to do things myself. Not forced to be waited upon."  
"And I thought I was mad for thinking the exact way."

Celine felt warmth spread through her. She'd never heard him properly laugh. Only ever the sneering Malfoy she remembered pre-War.  
"Here you are. I didn't realize we were out of mini marshmallows. I would've made some but-…"  
"Celine, just calm down and let me drink the damn hot cocoa."  
She tried not to laugh seeing a different look on Draco's face.  
"I need to ask –oh Merlin this is wonderful," Draco drank deeply from the mug.  
Celine winced. "How do you not burn your tongue?"  
"Coffee. I drink lots of coffee." Draco said.  
"Wait…I don't see the connection." Celine sat on the armchair beside him.

"I need to ask you something. You said my name. You've been having fantasies of me?" Draco grinned.  
There.  
That heat on her cheeks.  
She glanced at the portraits to make sure that Godric and Salazar weren't there.  
They weren't.  
She took a slow sip of her hot chocolate trying to calm herself down. But there was that thrill of him walking in on her. "I don't see why I have to answer that. Isn't it enough that you know I said your name?" Celine raised an eyebrow.  
Draco grinned. "I think I have the right to know what dirty things you're doing with my body."  
Celine laughed. "How do you even know…"  
"For starters you're open about your sexuality unlike Pansy…what…why are you making that face?"  
"You're bonkers. I'm not making a face."  
"Did you just call me bonkers?"  
"Nothing wrong with your hearing is there?" Celine took another sip of hot chocolate. The burning sensation grounded her. Draco shook his head, ghost of a smirk still on his lips. It's been such a long time since she felt this at ease with someone else. Never in her craziest dreams she'd thought it would be with Draco Malfoy.  
Draco grinned. "Are you just ignoring the main question now?"  
"Look Professor Slughorn has another invitation…for you know…coming back to Hogwarts…Do you…"  
"Do you want to come with me?" Draco asked.  
A pause.  
She laughed over the rim of her cup hoping that the dim lighting hid her flaming complexion. "Yes actually. That would be…interesting."  
"I never thought 'interesting' would be a word a woman would use to describe going out with me."  
"So this is it? We're going out now?" Celine asked wondering where this ballsy feeling was stemming from. She's flirting with Malfoy now? When did this happen?  
An overwhelming need to talk to her best friend resurfaced.  
"Isn't that what we're doing? Slughorn's office isn't located in the Tower-…"

Celine laughed feeling relieved.  
"You know that it's one of his invitation only soirees right?"  
"I leave before they start." Celine admitted.  
"Never figured you for a prude."  
"What? I'm not…I just don't enjoy being there by myself. I'm not…interested in casual encounters. Wouldn't Pansy object if she finds out?" She couldn't help it. Her defense mechanism kicked in. Her tone certainly came out snappier than she intended.  
"Are you really that afraid of her?"  
"I'm not _afraid_ I just don't want her to accuse me of _stealing_ …"  
"You aren't." He said firmly. "Pansy has never even come close…" Draco trailed off. He took a long drink from his mug, avoiding her gaze. "I don't feel anything for her." He said.

She started tracing random patterns against the ceramic mug, unsure what to say. The heat felt comforting.  
"Then why does she act like she _owns you_? And you just…allow it."  
Without even looking up she could feel his gaze on her.

"You sound jealous."

There was a certain quality to his voice that made her look up. Something in his eyes that made her lips involuntarily curled upwards.

"So you did say my name."

Celine laughed throwing another glance at the portraits, "Maybe I did Draco. It was a fantasy. Everyone is allowed to have them." Celine shrugged trying to sound nonchalant. "Goodnight Draco."

"Slughorn's party tomorrow."  
"Soiree."  
"Not if the school board finds out."

"Yes, not if the school board ever finds out." Celine agreed under her breath. She entered her room finding Rascal asleep on the middle of her bed. He reminded her of George. It's been a while since she received another letter from him. Stroking Rascal's fur she wondered what George might be up to, would he be cooking? Did he finally buy ginger?  
Celine stopped stroking Rascal's fur feeling as if she was being watched.  
A glance over her shoulder revealed no one at the door. Did she expect Draco to follow her upstairs?  
No.  
The steps would've turned into a slide. At least that's what happened to Ron and Harry according to Hermione. The mirror drew her attention next. It felt like there was someone watching her through it. Sliding open her drawer, she grabbed the elixir and took a gulp. The liquid went down her throat as she happened to glance at the entrance of her bathroom where Celine thought she saw a red headed figure.  
"Go…away." Celine pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. "You're not real."  
She opened her eyes again.  
He wasn't there.

* * *

The smell of dusty books was perhaps her most favorite smell in the world.

"Where do you think it could be?" Hermione asked.  
They were in the library looking for Helena's study that the Baron had somehow hidden under the noses of the founders.

"Not true. Rowena must have had some clue of where it ought to have been. I mean Celine if this is somehow connected to your father's murder then there has to be something in it worth killing for." Hermione reminded. Celine made a face, "It just doesn't seem feasible to put a secret room here."

"Just like it doesn't seem feasible to hide an entire _chamber_?" Harry asked drily as he started pulling books out at random.

"Ooh you don't have to get nasty. I wasn't here for that, remember?" Celine said.

"Sorry."

"Harry what are you doing?" Hermione giggled earning a fierce disapproving look from Madam Pince.  
Harry shrugged continuing his seemingly random madness, "Maybe there might be a secret passageway."  
"This isn't a crime show Harry, where would the key go?"

Celine barely paid attention to them. Where would the Baron have constructed the study?  
It had to be out of sight for sure which ruled out the main study area and reception.

The afternoon passed by slowly. She watched the sun sinking between the mountains in the background. Shadows stretched from the trees around the Black Lake.  
The trio gave in when the clock struck six.  
"I have to leave. Slughorn's thing is tonight. Are you two going?" Celine asked.

Harry laughed, not maliciously. "Not on your life. I don't see a reason to, not after our sixth year."  
"Oh _well_ , I thought you enjoyed getting gawked at." Celine teased. "You're going for a Ministry job. Are you prepared for that?"  
He shrugged. "I always figured I'd be too busy catching Voldemort's followers. There's still loads of them out there."  
"Hermione?"

"I think I'm going to read up on something tonight." Hermione said. Harry rolled his hazel eyes, "That's new."  
Hermione chuckled while giving Harry a push. "Well this won't have anything to do with exams."  
"No? Looking into your job prospects already?" Celine asked.  
Hermione gave a half shrug which somehow made Celine's stomach did a flip flop. Was everyone already neck deep in job searching?  
She wasn't even close to figuring anything out.  
 _Job-wise_.

"Do you think attending Professor Slughorn's soiree is a good idea?" Hermione suddenly asked. Celine shot her a quizzical look.  
"Because of what's been happening."

Celine bit her bottom lip. "Yeah…I see your point. I don't know now that you've put it like _that_ …take a leaf out of Mad-Eye's book and start drinking from a flask." She half joked. There was a certain heaviness that settled in her chest cavity. Without realizing it she had been excited about going to this soiree even though she didn't agree with half the things that went on, she wouldn't be attending it alone this time.

"Why do you look so upset?" Hermione questioned.  
Celine hadn't realized the question had been directed to her. "It's a distraction." She finally said.

Harry removed his glasses making a show of cleaning them. Hermione's expression revealed her sympathy. "You don't want to risk it. Especially since we don't know what lengths this person might take to assure…you…you know." Hermione gestured uncomfortably. Celine nodded. "I know. You're right. Obviously. I shouldn't risk it."  
"I think you should tell Professor McGonagall." Hermione continued.

"That's a little extreme don't you think? After the year we had…besides the Ministry has already opened a case for…Papa's murder. If there's anything in connection with me I think they would've done it by now. Remember when the Minister came to the Burrow that Christmas?"

"I have to agree with Hermione on this. It's just too risky." Harry said.  
"You obviously think this is a student then?" Celine asked.  
"There's no one else that would know where the Tower is. I don't think anyone outside the Prefects actually know where it is in the first place." Harry reasoned.

"Oh c'mon you know it's near the prefects' bathroom." Celine's cheeks suddenly felt warm.  
"Well aside from Quidditch captains and prefects then." He conceded.  
Celine sighed pushing the heels of her hands against her eyes trying to conceal her real emotions.  
 _Why am I getting so upset?_

"I guess this frees up my evening. Maybe I can look into the Baron's story. Try to find for a clue." Celine relented.  
"Or you could start looking for job opportunities." Hermione pointed out. "I know you don't exactly want to hear that but our NEWTs are coming up soon and-…"  
"I'll look into it okay?"

"Didn't you do something at George's joke shop after Christmas?" Harry asked.  
"That was just a day." Celine replied grabbing the stack of books hat detailed Hogwart's history.  
"I don't think what we're looking for would be in an obvious place." Hermione said as they walked out of the library together.  
"No kidding." Celine tried to keep the sarcasm from dripping into her tone. "Either way we need something to…pivot from. And I've got _all this free time_."

* * *

She ran into Draco still dressed in his Quidditch robes in front of Thunder's portraits.

"I'm surprised you're not upstairs getting ready." Draco said offering Celine to walk through the portrait hole first. She shrugged placing the stack of books on the coffee table, "Yeah we're going to need a raincheck on the soiree. Hermione just enlightened me on the dangers of going out while I have a _target on my back_."  
She watched Draco walk into the pantry, pouring himself a drink from the jug of water on the granite tabletop. He shrugged leaning against the counter. "She has a point I suppose, good thing she has a brain in her skull."  
"You're not mad?"  
"Why should I be? I was only interested in taking you…t-to the soiree." He stammered. "It's not like I'm going to miss talking to nosy people trying to figure out what happened with the Malfoy family and fortune after the War."

Celine hadn't expected that much emotion to pour forth from him like that. "Do you want me to make some hot chocolate? You look like you need it."  
Draco shook his head. "What did you have planned instead?"  
"Try to figure out where…" Celine caught herself. She had never explained to Draco what was going on with the Baron. The key weighed heavily in her pocket when she glanced at Draco, he was still waiting for her to finish her sentence.

"Would you believe me if I told you something?" Celine asked.  
"I guess that depends on what you have to say. Be warned though if it it's stuff from the Quibbler you might have a harder time convincing me."  
Celine giggled, "I wish it were that simple."  
She hadn't planned on telling him everything but when she started to talk it just flowed out. It felt like a weight was being lifted off her shoulders _as_ she as talking – from the mysterious owl shaped key that appeared in the mail a year after her mother died, the curious question that Professor Slughorn posed regarding the key's origin when Celine hadn't even mentioned it to him up to Marc's subsequent death.

"You think this is all connected?" Draco asked sipping his freshly made hot chocolate. Celine had to practically force it on him. "Did you add something new to this?"  
"Yeah. Caramel syrup. Do you like it?"  
"It's not bad. It's delicious…actually…"Draco cleared his throat. "So where do you think the study room is?"

Celine shot him a look that she hoped portrayed her disbelief. "You're joking. That's all you have to say? _To all that_?"  
Draco made a face, "Yes? The connections check out. Theoretically…you could very well be connected to Rowena. It looks like aside from finding the study, you could get in touch with that relative you have around here."  
"It's just a guess, I don't really know _for sure_. I vaguely recognized the handwriting." Celine shrugged.  
Draco gestured dismissively. Celine noticed a light clarity shine through his eyes suddenly. "That could very well be the reason why your Father was targeted. Do you know if there's anything in the study? Did the Baron say anything? It's strange, all this while he'd never speak to any Slytherins. But he did have a grunting contest with Crabbe once."  
"That sounds creepy."  
"It was quite hilarious."  
"Hermione thinks I should tell Professor McGonagall."  
"I think that's premature." Draco shifted in his seat. "You were given the poisoned mead before Christmas. And the…murder…"

"-…occurred after." Celine paused. The spines of the books looked new- presumably they incorporated facts about the recent War. None of them look as if they've ever been opened. The pages crackled whenever she flipped pages. "I'm surprised you didn't change at the pitch. You always seem to be taking showers."  
"Been spying on me in the bath are we now?" Draco half smirked.

"You don't dry your hair with magic and I thought I was the only one who does that so I couldn't help notice. It was something Mama taught me growing up."  
"I always just thought I didn't give damn." Draco said breaking the tension that slipped into the conversation through the tiny mention of Mama.

Celine readjusted herself on the armchair feeling her leg fall asleep, a smile on her face. "And you were never reprimanded?"  
"I was also a very privileged son."

Grabbing the first book from the coffee table, "I should probably get started on this."  
She heard him cross the room and took the armchair beside her. "So do you have any idea _where_ in the library the study is?"  
Celine shook her head eyes still focusing on the same spot on the page. "I told you this, I don't know. If I did it would definitely help narrow down the radius."

A small silence ensued which Celine took absorbing the details the author of _Magical Schools of Europe_ used to describe Rowena Ravenclaw: a dark beauty with large doe-like eyes underneath a set of thick eyelashes. Helena, the current Lady Grey, was described the same way. Her father's heritage did come up as a mystery since Rowena refused to acknowledge him.

"Pansy was waiting for me in the dressing room." Draco eventually said interrupting her concentration. She looked up at him.  
"I…you asked…" He stammered half-heartedly.

"Okay. Well…I guess Pansy heard through someone that you were taking me to Slughorn's soiree."  
Draco made a face. "I doubt that was it…she's not… _petty_ …just clingy."  
"I think she's just trying to make sure that the person she thinks she's dating isn't dating anyone _else_."  
"I was never…" But Draco fell silent when she glanced at him over the top of her book.  
"Maybe."

"Ah you two are still awake." Godric exclaimed from on top of the fireplace.  
"You seem to have delightful news." Celine commented. Draco seemed to have gained some form of energy, sitting up straight in his chair with a calculating look on his features. "I can't believe we never made the connection." He murmured so that Celine barely caught it. "Are there any portraits of Rowena Ravenclaw?"

Celine leant back against her armchair in awe of him. Before Godric could reply Celine spoke, "There isn't. I tried looking for one but oddly enough there are only busts in the Ravenclaw common room. Any other portrait would be in a museum or private collection."

"Your family…would they-" Draco began but stopped upon seeing her shake her head.  
"Papa's family is all gone and honestly I don't know much about this…great-aunt."  
"Then maybe you should find out. Honestly Celine, that seems like a better solution than going through all _that_." Draco gestured towards the stack of books. "-and perhaps finding nothing useful. Writing a letter might yield something."

"What are you two talking about?" Salazar asked his thick eyebrows highlighting his curiosity.

"Nothing." Both answered simultaneously. Draco glanced at her, "You know it's not too late to go to Slughorn's soiree."  
"Hermione and Harry said-"  
"Forget them. Look I'll personally take the first sip of every single drink you have tonight to make sure it isn't poisoned."

Celine glanced at him a smile unconsciously playing on her lips. Draco shifted in his seat, "What? Why are you looking at me that way?"  
"I'm remembering the bully that used to torture my friends and I all these years."  
"The War changed a lot of things."


	12. The High Street and the Towel Closet

**Chapter 12:The High Street and the Towel Closet**

"And you're saying we have to be decent to him?" Ron questioned for the fourth time. Celine turned around slowly trying to keep her temper under control.  
" _Yes_ Ronald. Don't you want to help figure out who's trying to kill me?"  
"Well of course I do."  
"Then don't be a dick."  
"Wait what? How'd you reckon that? You're the one-"  
"I swear to Morgana Ron, if you say 'fraternizing with the enemy' I will not hesitate to pour Veritaserum into your next pumpkin juice."

"Stay calm Weasley, I'm not looking to pick a fight today." Draco said walking up from behind them. Harry narrowed his eyes, "And no funny business either, Malfoy."  
"I wasn't planning on it." Draco had his leather gloved hands in the air.

Celine sighed knowing that this was as good as it was going to get. She watched Ron and Draco exchange dirty looks.  
"Going to be slightly harder than you anticipated I'm afraid." Hermione muttered so that Celine was the only one who heard.

* * *

Draco took them to a part of Hogsmeade that she had never known existed. It reminded her of the high fashion streets in Venice, each store front uniquely decorated to showcase the opulence within. Handmade chocolate, leather goods stitched with intricate patterns, exquisite home-made soaps. On more than one occasion Celine had to remind herself that they had a bigger objective at hand.

"I'll take you around after." Draco said from beside her. He must've noticed her wandering eyes. Not that she was trying hard to conceal it. Hermione must have overheard too because the next time Celine caught her friend's gaze there was an extremely amused expression on her. Celine tried her hardest to appear nonchalant with Draco walking beside her, occasionally tapping her on the arm to direct her in the correct way. They hadn't gone to Professor Slughorn's soiree instead they'd sat in front of the fireplace exchanging stories from their childhood. It suddenly all made sense, the constant tormenting, the snide remarks – Celine had been right about Lucius Malfoy's significant authoritarian role on his life.

They approached a storefront that looked like it belonged in the New York in the 20s with awnings in moss green with gold trimmings. The name read _Hunter's_.

The air inside was lightly fragranced with lavender, the display shelves were made of dark oak and their collection of designer jewelry were kept under glass cases. Her eyes were drawn to a bracelet display that held bracelets with different stones in laid in the middle. They were similar to the one she was currently wearing.  
 _275 galleons_.  
Celine blinked her eyes slowly to make sure she wasn't misreading the numerical.

"Mr. Malfoy. Pleased to see you again." A wizened wizard dressed impeccably in mossy green fitted robes with a matte gold tie. "And what can I help you with today? Another charming trinket for your lady friend?"  
"What? Oh…no…err…Darius…these are…my friends…" Draco's ears were turning a pale shade of pink. Celine pretended not to notice how warm her cheeks were getting. She noticed Ron making a face earning himself a jab in the ribs from Hermione.

"-I was wondering if we could take a look at the customer acquisition paper for anyone that purchased a bottle of Dragon's Milk in the last two months."  
"I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy but that cannot be done. Hunter's has a strict customer privacy rule that we adhere to."

"Listen, our friend here almost got killed from drinking what she thought was your mead." Harry said. "We are asking for your kind cooperation, please. So we can figure out who tried to do it. Her life is in danger."  
"You're Harry Potter." A smile started blossoming across Darius's face. "My niece is a big fan of you, Mr. Potter."  
Celine saw Draco expressively rolling his eyes while Harry looked rather taken aback.  
"She is?" He echoed.

Hermione elbowed Harry in the ribs. "So you understand the seriousness of the situation? You must believe us, we're only trying to get to the bottom of this."  
"I deeply apologize, Miss?"  
"Granger."  
"Miss Granger but _these are_ Hunter's rules. If you insist upon them you must open a case with the Ministry of Law Enforcement and issue a search warrant." Darius said placing both hands on top of the glass display case.  
"How can you be so-…" Harry began but immediately fell silent seeing Draco move towards the counter. He leaned against it slipping a 100 Galleon note casually across the shiny surface.

"I can perhaps show you the pickup schedule of the week you are interested in." Darius eventually said.  
Draco nodded. "That would be useful."  
"Thank you." Celine added hastily. Draco glanced at her, surprised, murmuring a soft 'thank you' under his breath. She could've sworn she saw a small smile on Darius's lips before he disappeared behind a set of curtains. It didn't take him long. In fact the curtains were still fluttering from his exit when he returned carrying a tan leather bound book. In his other hand he held a rather large and elaborate peacock quill.  
Celine caught Hermione's eyes. They both stifled giggles.

"What were the dates you were interested in?" He asked flipping the pages.  
Celine tried to bring the memory of unwrapping the mead to mind. She didn't mean to glance at Draco, didn't mean to look into his eyes, seeing the steel blue flecks again. She was brought back to when she sat next to him and their arms brushed against each other.  
Remembering the small paused charged with energy that transpired between them.

"A week before Christmas." Celine finally said, blush spreading across her cheeks.  
"Unfortunately there are quite a number." Darius pointed out to them. Celine's heart sank. There had to be dozens of names on those dates.  
"Does anyone stand out to you?" Harry asked.  
"Hey is that Rookwood there?" Ron pointed out. "Didn't he die in the war?"  
" _Obviously_ this would be a relative." Hermione said before turning to Darius whom was nodding slightly.  
"Miss Granger is absolutely correct, though I dare say I don't know exactly how they are related. As you know, that isn't a subject that would come up in usual conversation."

A desperate sigh ran through Celine, "I guess we're back to square one."  
"I'm sorry I wish I could have been more of service."

Celine shrugged trying hard to hide her disappointment. Draco took her hand rubbing his thumb over the back of it, "Hey. We're going to figure this out."  
She had to smile. The way he said _we're_. The certainty behind his tone.

Ron cleared his throat.

Celine didn't realize how cold her hand was until Draco pulled his away. Hermione shot her a knowing look which she pretended not to notice. Harry and Ron were already walking out of the store. They never saw the bracelet. Hermione caught sight of the display case that Celine spotted earlier. Her eyes went round when realization struck her.  
"Let's go Hermione." Celine said quickly grabbing her by the arm and steering her away from the cases.

The wind had picked up outside and Celine pulled her plum colored trench coat tighter around herself.  
"So it _wasn't_ someone you knew from Beauxbaton." Hermione smirked. Celine shot her friend a look but thankfully Harry and Ron were out of earshot. Not that they would have noticed Celine's bracelet in the first place let alone make the connection that it was Draco that gave it to her. "Were you ever going to tell me? After that lecture you gave me about never telling you about Professor Snape?"  
"I'm not even sure what this is _supposed_ to mean 'Mione." Celine said.

Hermione pursed her lips but quickly wiped her expression neutral as Draco approached them.  
"I'm not sure what you lot are up to but I'm heading back to the castle…unless you want to take a look around the shops Celine?"  
"I…uhh.."

"We have Quidditch practice." Harry reminded her squashing any notion of wanting to spend the afternoon with Draco. _Snap out of this Celine, what are you doing?_  
She swallowed hard, "Right. Of course."

* * *

Later feeling battered, wind-swept and cold Celine trudged into the changing room with the rest of her Quidditch team. Ginny was still busy trying to give words of encouragement but she barely heard any of it over the creaky metallic sound of her locker opening.

"Aren't you coming for dinner?" Harry asked.  
Celine shook her head, "I'm going to take a shower here. My muscles are killing me."  
Harry shrugged, Ron already at the entrance of the changing room gesturing wildly for the two of them to hurry up. "See you later then."

The hot water cascaded down her shoulders releasing the tension in her muscles and chasing away the chill that had settled in her bones from spending too much time on her broom while in the just below freezing weather. The only Quidditch captain that _hadn't_ worked them to death was when Harry was captain in their sixth year, Celine thought ruefully. The cool tiles gave her a soothing reprieve from the water. Her heavy water-saturated hair sat on her shoulders the tips clinging to her elbows. It felt soothing.

Sounds of someone entering the changing room and head down towards the bathroom made her eyes fly open. The shower area is a rectangle shaped open space without any barriers separating the stalls, anyone walking in would immediately see her. The other end was completely blocked off with just a closet and several potted plants. She didn't have much of an escape route. Turning off the shower Celine made a grab for her towel – this was precisely the reason why the other girls hardly ever took showers in the changing room.

"Celine?"

"Draco…" Her heart was beating an erratic tempo in her chest. She'd barely managed to get her towel around her when he walked into the shower area. "-what are you doing here?"

"I have Quidditch practice after dinner…I came down early..."

Celine was highly aware of water droplets still dripping from her hair and running down her skin.

"Draco?" Pansy's girlish voice rang through the high-ceilinged changing room sending actual shivers down Celine's spine.  
Draco's eyes widened from where he was rooted. He quietly rushed towards her, grabbing her arm and pulling her through the closet door partially hidden behind a giant leaf. There wasn't much space inside and Celine found herself pressed against Draco's form, the shelves of extra towels jammed into her back. His warm dry hands felt exquisite on her shoulders but Celine could hardly concentrate on that now, she was busy trying to keep herself from breathing too loud.  
 _It wouldn't matter Pansy can probably hear my beating heart._

His fingers were on the back of her neck now causing a hitch in her breath. Draco pressed his palm against her mouth and tiny shivers ran down her spine.

The sound of heels clacking against stone brought Celine back to reality her fear bursting forth. _What would Pansy think if she finds us like this? Sexual relation between students is definitely worthy of getting kicked out of Hogwarts. Pansy could say anything…oh Morgana…_

"Draco I saw you walk onto the pitch…I know you're somewhere in here…" Her footsteps were beginning to fade.  
Draco's hand on her mouth loosened slightly and fell to her shoulder whenever they couldn't hear Pansy anymore.

"That was," Draco exhaled pressing his forehead down against hers. "close."  
"Draco…" She could smell evergreen cologne on his skin, the spearmint on his breath. Their eyes met and they conveyed his embarrassment.  
"I-I-I'm…s-sorry…" His hand found the doorknob. It rattled and shook in place.

"I think it's stuck." Draco said trying to look anywhere but her chest. Celine bit her bottom lip, self-consciously pulling the towel tighter around herself.  
"Do you have your wand on you?" Celine asked.  
"No, it's in my room."  
"Oh for Morgana's sake…" She closed her eyes leaning her head back against one of the shelves. "There has to be a way out of here." Her voice quivered.  
"Celine, what's the matter?"  
"I just don't like being in small spaces." Her throat was tightening.

"I didn't realize I didn't want her to find us…"  
"Just get us out of here _please_."

Draco nodded. Celine involuntarily clung onto his side hearing voices through the door, "Who's that?"  
"I think it's the rest of the team. Practice is going to start soon." He whispered in answer.  
"Won't they find us here?"  
Draco shook his head placing a finger to his lips as the voices increased in quantity and volume. Celine tried to tune out the locker room talk that carried through the walls. The Slytherin team was predominantly male with the exception of their Keeper who is quick with her sharp turns.

"You lot are disgusting!" Her voice rang clear. Another person replied her but Celine could only hear his deep murmur before the raucous laughter ensued. Draco shook his head. "They need to stop harassing Lisa or she's going to leave the team." He muttered.

Celine tried to focus on anything to harness her panic fortunately all she could cling on to was to the scent of Draco's cologne. Closing her eyes she a picture of the Forbidden Forest came to mind. A small clearing with fluffy grass that always felt warm underfoot and flat surfaced rocks that made great tables to study on; she had accidentally stumbled upon in her fifth year. She could hear Draco shifting in front of her, his Quidditch robes grazing her thighs. Trying to ignore the tingly feeling the places he touched her were experiencing she tried to focus on Hermione. _What would she do if she was ever in this situation?_  
A distinctive fictional character came to mind with dark wavy hair and prominent handsome features, Sherlock Holmes. _Yes…what is that Muggles do…peel locks? No. Pick locks? Yes, yes that's it…But I don't have anything like that…_

"Celine…" Draco's voice was husky and cracked with restraint.  
"Ssshh…I'm thinking…"  
"I understand that but…" He shifted and all of a sudden the hyper awareness that she was only dressed in a towel came rushing back. The inside of her left thigh came into contact with… _Oh_... _Is that his-…?_

"I can't help it." Draco said.  
Knowing it was _her_ that was making him feel this way sent warm tingles down her neck into her spine and settled in her loins. Opening her eyes she realized the problem: the front of her towel had come undone in her meditation displaying her nudity from the waist up. Grabbing the hems she retied the knot averting her gaze from Draco's face.

"Is that a Keeper's faceguard behind you?"

"I..I don't know…Hang on…" He tried to turn but the constriction of space caused his arm to push against her chest. Celine pretended it wasn't a big deal knowing it would only cause more unnecessary sexual tension. At least Draco actually seemed preoccupied with trying to get the faceguard. "There. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. All I know is I need something thin and long." Celine paused trying to ignore the sexual innuendo that threatened to spill from her lips. She needed to rein her thoughts in or she was never going to be able to look at Draco in the face ever again. "Do you mind just…trying to move over so I can get to the doorknob?"

"Yeah, sure."

They shifted around trying to make the least amount of noise possible in case any stragglers from the Slytherin team were still hanging around in the changing room. Celine tried to think of other thoughts feeling his hard dick pressed against her shoulder blade when she knelt eye level with the keyhole.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked sounding alarmed.

"Relax…it's not…I know this looks weird but Hermione and I were watching this show…the man is sort of like an Auror…Muggles call him a _private detective_ and he does this whenever he needs to get through a locked door. There are tumblers inside that can unlock it." Celine explained while ripping out the metallic part of the faceguard from its leather face attachments. Taking a thin silver metal rod from the netted metallic portion she inserted it into the keyhole fumbling for any sort of purchase.

"Do you even know what you're doing?"

It was hard to ignore the skepticism in his voice. "I don't see you coming up with any other solutions. So unless you want to be found like this-…"

"Like what? We could just say we were trapped."

"Oh Draco you think they would believe us?"

"Who's 'they'?"

" _Them_. People. Professor McGonagall." Celine gestured taking the rod out of the keyhole. "Whatever it is it looks like we're having sex in here and _you know_ that would get us expelled." She was trying to keep her voice down but the exasperation was making her louder with every syllable.

He fell silent at that. Celine wondered what he was thinking of, regretting her choice of words, because now she can't get the image of the two of them out of her head. Her claustrophobia was pushed to the back of her mind.  
 _It's been so long_ …  
She imagined running her hands through his hair, offering her throat for him to kiss. An overwhelming unexplainable desire washed over her, the towel felt like a weight pulling her.  
And maybe it was just that…

The charged atmosphere heightened with the intense look Celine couldn't keep off her face. Her imagination had taken reign yet a small inkling survived.  
 _  
Can I do this…?_

"Celine…" His voice did it for her. The soft husky way he pronounced the last syllable of her name made her smile. Her hands held onto his shoulders and her tongue suddenly tasted spearmints. His warm fingers trailed down her shoulders to the front knot of her towel.

" _Oh_ …" Celine gasped. Draco had deftly untied the knot and his long fingers were playing with her nipples. Opening her eyes, seeing the smirk on his lips Celine had to bring him closer; had to satisfy the sudden craving for spearmint. Those hands that had teased her were now tracing the curves of her body.

"It's unfair that I'm already naked…"

"I think it's a bloody turn on." Draco murmured into her hair. "I'm confused…isn't this exactly what you didn't want happen?" Speaking didn't put a stop to his roaming hands. A fluttering _need_ started up Celine's groin when his hand briefly passed over her mound brushing the fine pubic hairs.

"You're not making it easier though." Celine countered. Her fingers started to undo his belt feeling her way into his khaki Qudditch pants. She felt the healed crinkled skin around the scars on his stomach and his hips, felt the tiny tremors of his body as she touched him. Her lips longed to trace his scars but the closet didn't give much room to maneuver.

"Oh _Merlin_ …woman you're killing me."

"I can't _help it_ there's not much space" Her fingers brushed his hardened dick. Draco shifted simultaneously pushing himself into her hand. Celine wanted to take her time but that was perhaps one thing they didn't have.

Voices echoing from the changing room caused Celine's hand to freeze around Draco's dick.

"Wish I knew where Malfoy has gotten to. When I find him-…"

"You're _not_ going to do anything."

"What? You think I'm afraid of that pathetic little-"

"He's one of the best players you've got you don't want him leaving the team."

"What's the worst he can do? _Father_ is in Azkaban remember?"

Celine recognized Edmund's voice belonging to one of the speakers and assumed that the other individual was perhaps Jacob Donahue, the Slytherin captain. She tried to block out the rest of their conversation concentrating instead on sliding her hand up and down Draco's erection.

"Tease." He whispered into her ear when she kept switching between fast and slow rhythms. Celine allowed her sexual needs to take over.

 _Click._

The door unlocked from their constant shifting. Both froze immediately worried that Edmund and Jacob would hear them. Draco's hands cupped her breasts as he closed her towel around her but Celine was relentless.  
The thrill of getting caught seemed very plausible – making it that more erotic. His hands flew to her hips when she tightened her grip on him. Celine could hear him struggling to remain quiet. She was battling an inner frustration of her own, pulling out his dick meant easier contact and feeling his hot skin against her fingertips is turning her on. She couldn't remember the last time she was consumed by such a desperate desire. But seeing his hardened dick would certainly entice her to take him into her mouth. She was craving to taste another part of Draco and she could tell from his eyes that he shared the desire.

"I'm sure he would have his reasons. Maybe McGonagall needed him for something. You honestly think he would be skulking around in the changing room because he wanted to play hooky?" Edmund's voice sounded alarmingly closer.  
"He better."  
Their voices eventually faded – all the while she hadn't released his dick, keeping up a steady rhythm.

"Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it is to be on a broom with a hard on?" He growled. Celine grinned, opening the door and discovering the whole reason the door locked itself in the first place: the giant leaf had wedged in the frame. The silver rod _had_ helped with unlocking one of the tumblers that accidentally locked.  
Celine delved her hands deeper, gripping his dick with her two hands now. She had to bite her lip to refrain the smile threatening to break across hr face upon seeing his entire body _shudder_ with _delight_. His left hand gripped the hair at the base of her neck pulling gently to expose her throat.

"I think you still have some time before you can have that." His lips brushed her neck sending more sexually charged tingles from the places he touched. Celine gasped not expecting the sharp pain on her neck. He'd bit her.

Celine grinned, acutely aware of how wet looking at that wolfish smirk got her. "But I enjoy playing with fire."

"I need to go to practice."

"Edmund had a point Professor McGonagall could've needed you for something. _I_ might need you for something." Celine looked at him meaningfully earning a genuine smile from him this time.

"Unfortunately I'm a man of my words, unlike Father. I have an obligation to the team." He carefully removed her hands, kissing her palms. "We'll continue this later."


End file.
